Wishes In The Night
by Moonlit Seductress
Summary: A foolishly spoken comment brings Sarah back to the Underground for good. Will she be able to cope with Jareth and the pressures of the Seelie Court? Or will she end up trapped in an oubliette forever?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Labyrinth and all characters from said film belong to Jim Henson and George Lucas, those geniuses. The little excerpt from William Butler Yeats' poem belongs to him. I own nothing (nothing, nothing, tra la la) but Ilie and the plot.

A/N: Here it is, the one you've all been waiting for. Okay, well, not really. But still – Wishes In The Night is nice and clean and all fixed up. Those stupid spelling mistakes, chronological errors, and just idiotic things I completely overlooked have been removed. If you don't feel like reading all this again – the content is very similar to before – you can skip ahead to the next chapter.

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**Wishes In The Night**  
By: Moonlit Seductress  
Chapter One

* * *

"I'm sorry, Sarah, but it's just not working out." The kind faced man smiled sadly at Sarah Williams, who could do no more than stare back.

"You're firing me?" she asked softly, green eyes radiating shock. Her boss – or former boss, as the case seemed to be – shook his head.

"Don't think of it as being fired. It's a new direction – "

'_The gutter,'_ Sarah thought dully.

" – a change of occupation – "

'_To unemployed.'_

" – a fresh start."

Sarah buried her face in her hands. "For a whole new bad ending," she breathed quietly, before looking up hopefully. "Look, Mr. Johnson, I – "

"I'm sorry, Sarah, but it's non negotiable. You know that if I had any other choice, I would take it, but this store is all I have. It feeds my family. It's my first priority. And with the number of employees I have now, I can't afford to pay everyone and still have enough left over to put food on the table. I know you've had a rough time lately, but when it comes down to it…" The middle aged man trailed off.

Sarah sighed. "I know," she replied. "And I'm sorry."

Mr. Johnson reached over the desk, extending his hand. Sarah grasped it, and he gave her a warm handshake. "I wish you luck in all your future endeavors."

"Thank you," Sarah said, and she meant it. She just wasn't sure how much good it would do.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Sarah, but it's just not working out." The voice of her stepmother cut through the phone line. "Your father and I can't keep supporting you. You're a grown woman now, and we're already paying your car payments for you – we can't keep sending you money."

"But Karen, I just need it until I find another job! Then I'll pay you back, every red cent. I just need time." Sarah forced her head through the simple t-shirt she wore to bed, struggling to keep the phone next to her ear.

"You say that every time, Sarah. How much have your father and I given to you?"

Sarah threw herself onto her bed. "A lot," she muttered sullenly.

"Exactly. We never even asked for any of it back, and – "

"And I told you I didn't want to talk about that anymore!" Sarah shouted into the phone.

"There's no need to scream, Sarah." The note of patronization in Karen's voice was the final straw, and Sarah slammed the receiver down. Making a face at the phone, she climbed off the bed, and walked towards her bookshelves, firmly intending to loose herself in a fairytale until all the petty problems of this real life had faded away.

Her fingers skimmed over the spines of many books, stopping on a red, leather bound volume. Pulling it out, she frowned as her eyes caught the gold embossed words on the cover.

**The Labyrinth**

With an angry growl, she hurled the book towards the wall. Turning her attention back to the books, she pulled out a collection of poems by William Butler Yeats. She had just curled up in her big wicker chair when a knock on the door forced her to her feet, muttering under her breath.

She peeked through the peephole, smiling at the sight of her boyfriend. Opening the door, she quickly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, burrowing her face in his broad chest.

"Hi, Michael." She murmured.

"Uh, hi, Sarah," he said. It was then she noticed that he was not holding her. She pulled back, glancing up at his face. "What's wrong?"

Michael shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, Sarah, but it's just not working out."

She let go of him, stepping back. "What isn't?"

"Us. You and me. I just…I get the feeling that you think we're…married or something. And well…I'm just not ready for such a serious relationship yet. It was fun, but…I think we're gonna have to call it off."

"Call…it…off."

"Yeah." The tall blonde bent to kiss her cheek, but she turned away. "Look, Sarah, for what it's worth, you're a great girl. I'm just not sure that we're meant for each other."

Her reply was the slamming of the door.

* * *

"I don't believe this!" Sarah burst out, not caring that she was talking to herself again. "It's not fair!"

As those words left her lips, she could have sworn she heard a dark chuckle. Looking around, she saw no one. "Get a grip, Sarah, you're cracking up again." Angrily turning all the lights off, she curled up in her bed.

"This stinks," she said dully. "I'm sick of all this crap. I wish…"

She trailed off, unsure of what she wanted. Suddenly, it came to her – with such force that she was certain someone had whispered it into her ear.

"I wish…I wish the goblins would come and take me away…right now." She closed her eyes, letting sleep claim her.

She did not hear the crash of thunder that rolled through the sky. She did not see the pages of Yeats' book flip in the breeze, coming to rest on a certain open page.

_Come away, O human child!  
To the waters and the wild  
With a faery, hand in hand,  
For the world's more full of weeping than you  
Can understand_.

She did not see the moon faced barn owl that swooped through her window – an owl with mismatched eyes.

* * *

Sarah snuggled deeper into the covers. For some reason, they seemed softer than normal. Almost like velvet…

She opened her eyes – and sat straight up, confusion, shock, and fear setting off alarms in her head. She was not in her bland, white painted bedroom, but a large, stone walled chamber. The bed she sat in was not her rickety old twin size with the mattress springs poking through, but a huge featherbed, with rich, blue velvet covers. And the person sitting in a chair, directly across from her – well, _he_ certainly hadn't been in her apartment.

He sat sideways in the chair, one long, slim leg thrown over the arm. He was dressed in a silky shirt of deep red, and tight black pants, tucked into leather boots, one of which bounced slightly, matching the rhythm that gloved fingers tapped on a muscled thigh. Wild blonde hair brushed broad shoulders. Mismatched eyes – one blue, one green – bored into Sarah as she blinked at him.

"You," she whispered softly.

* * *

Jareth watched the young woman wake, sit bolt upright, and gaze around in shock. Her green eyes were wide as they surveyed her surroundings, and they went even wider as they landed on him, carelessly draped over the chair.

"You," she whispered softly.

He smirked slightly, observing her. She didn't look very different, only more mature. Her face had lost its baby roundness, revealing high cheekbones, her skin smooth and flawless. Her lips were alluringly full, her hair just as long, but with soft, delicate layers. She truly was a woman now.

Letting his eyes travel downwards, Jareth suppressed a smirk as he took in the V – neck of her black top. Yes, Sarah was _certainly_ not a little girl anymore.

Sarah followed his gaze and gasped, jerking the blankets up to cover her chest. Jareth chuckled.

"Well, Sarah…it seems as though you've grown up," he said, voicing his thoughts aloud.

"Where am I?" Sarah asked, a frown marring her smooth brow. Jareth merely smiled. "Take a guess," he invited, motioning to the obvious splendor of the room.

"I'm not…back in the Underground?" she guessed hesitantly.

"But of course. Where else would I take you?"

Sarah rubbed her temples – a murderous headache was forming just behind her eyes. "That's the next question," she said, looking up at the grinning Goblin King. "Why did you take me?"

"You asked me to."

The woman slapped her hands on the bedcovers in frustration. "I did not – why would I do something so foolish?"

Jareth shrugged. "I do not know," he replied, calm and collected – a far cry from the fiery, angry creature he had been when she had last spoken to him.

"Exactly. Now tell me the truth – why did you take me?"

"I told you – you wished it." He held up a fine boned hand as she tried to speak. "Think, Sarah. What happened before you fell asleep?"

Sarah frowned. "I…Michael came over…and told me it was over," she recalled. "Then…I was talking to myself. I said…I said it wasn't fair…and someone laughed." Her eyes flashed at him. "That was you. You were there!"

"You were so fond of that silly phrase as a child, Sarah. I'd hoped you would have grown out of it by now."

Pointedly ignoring him, Sarah continued to review her evening. "Then I went to sleep." She scowled.

"And just before you fell asleep," Jareth prompted.

"I wish…I wish the goblins would take me away…right now."

The Goblin King spread his hands triumphantly. "And here I am. And here you are."

Sarah motioned furiously. "But I didn't mean it – again! Why do you keep taking me seriously? Don't you know what 'in the heat of the moment' means? I was distraught! I wasn't thinking clearly!"

"It does not matter!" Jareth rose to his feet in one smooth movement, mismatched eyes boring into her. "Do _you_ not understand? I am bound by duty! When someone wishes themselves or someone else to the goblins, I have no choice in whether to respond or not – whether they truly meant it or not!"

Sarah shrank into the covers. She had never seen him this angry before – not even when she had stood before him and uttered the words that defeated him.

He passed a hand over his face. "Do you not think that I would refuse to take innocent children if I could? Do you really think me that heartless?"

Sarah nodded, somewhat sheepishly. "Uh…yeah, actually, I did."

In a flash, the weariness had disappeared, and the smirking Goblin King was back. "Good," he answered. "You were meant to think so. I play roles, my dear. When you were here last, I was the powerful, debonair opponent, geared to frighten, yet captivate and enchant you."

Sarah smiled wickedly. She would show him.

"And I still managed to beat you," she commented lightly.

Jareth opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, sweeping from the room. The woman in his bed breathed a sigh of relief, pulling the blankets over her head.

* * *

Slamming out of his own bedchamber, Jareth gritted his teeth. He had already lost his temper twice with the young vixen – two time too many. She was infuriating, annoying, fascinating. He was even more intrigued by her now.

She had been too young, the last time – barely out of childhood. She hadn't understood the implications of his offer. She had seen him as the enemy, and she had treated him as such, and had indeed defeated him – in more ways than one.

He had been angry, of course – angry at the loss of his power, angry at the loss of her. However, there had been relief in his mind as well. She really had been too young. If she had accepted his offer, protocol demanded that he wait until she was twenty-one. He would have had that lovely, tempting creature living in his castle, but not be able to touch her for six agonizing years.

Now, she was twenty-five – a woman. Now she would understand if he offered to be her slave. Now she was ready to be the Queen the Goblin King needed…and the lover that Jareth needed.

He smiled to himself as he walked down the lavish hallway, anger melting away into plans of seduction and the subsequent rewards. He _would_ win her over.

* * *

Sarah remained huddled in the bed until it struck her just _whose_ bed it was – and God knew what he'd been doing there. She leapt off the plush mattress, just as a knock sounded on the door.

She quickly crossed the thick blue carpet – which was deliciously soft on her bare feet – and opened the heavy door, intending to give Jareth a piece of her mind. She was surprised to find a tiny goblin female, who swept a deep curtsy.

"Good evening, ma'am," the goblin greeted, in a light, piping voice. "Master has sent me to you. My name is Ilie. Master says I am to lead you to your room and make sure you have need of nothing." She remained bent in the curtsy throughout the little speech.

"Uh, ok," Sarah said, unsure of how to respond to such a fancy speech from such a simple looking creature. But the goblin simply rose, pattering down the hall on tiny feet.

Sarah followed, gazing at the rich tapestries and expensive looking decorations that brightened the otherwise dark stone walls. Ilie led her a short distance from Jareth's room and into a large, lush chamber with decidedly feminine décor.

The room was dressed in pastels, a pale pink carpet on the floor. The light green drapes were pulled back, revealing a moonlit balcony. The bed was done up in shades of soft pinks. There was a huge wardrobe in one corner, and an ornate vanity in another.

"Did Jareth prepare this room just for me?" Sarah asked, running her fingers across the highly polished wood of the four-poster bed.

"No," Ilie replied, turning down the covers. "Master entertains many Ladies of his court. This room was originally prepared for their use, but it will now be yours."

"Entertains?"

Ilie's greenish brown skin flushed, taking on a clearly reddish hue.

"Great," Sarah muttered. "A jerk and a playboy. Why am I not surprised?" She scowled at herself in the mirror, disgusted with the faint tinge of jealousy that shot through her.

"Master has instructed me to fit you with a suitable wardrobe. In the meantime, there are many fine garments in this cupboard that you might wear." Ilie removed an airy nightgown, which seemed to be made of silk.

Sarah very nearly reached out to take it, but the thought of some other woman wearing it – and perhaps even visiting Jareth in it – made her drop her hand. "It's alright," she said. "I'll just wear my own stuff for now."

Ilie nodded, blowing out all but one candle on the bedside table and bobbing another curtsy. "Will Mistress be requiring anything else?" she asked.

The title of mistress made Sarah cringe. "No, but please – call me Sarah."

The goblin woman merely nodded, turning and closing the door behind her. Sarah climbed into the bed, hoping it was all just a bad dream and she would soon wake in her own apartment.

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A/N: Please review! 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Labyrinth and all characters from said film belong to Jim Henson and George Lucas, those geniuses. I own nothing (nothing, nothing, tra la la) but Ilie and the plot.

A/N: Chapter 2, again fixed up and all pretty. I got rid of the review replies – it's not that I don't appreciate them, because I really do, but they were just taking up too much room. Enjoy this chapter!

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**Wishes In The Night**  
Chapter 2

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Jareth twisted in his bed, unable to sleep. He could smell her. Her perfume had permeated the covers, the mattress, and the very scent of her was rendering him pathetic.

He sighed, exasperated, and climbed from the bed. Sleep was elusive tonight, and he knew why. Her presence – so close – was enough to send a myriad of thoughts spinning through his head. Stepping out onto his balcony, he let the warm summer breeze wash over him, the moonlight turning his skin silvery and pale, and contemplated the mortal girl that had become his obsession.

He had watched her for some time before she had wished her brother away. Her reading of the red leather bound book had caught his attention – she had spoken his name, and his magic had reacted in kind, forcing him to see who she was, and why she had called him by name.

He had watched her act out the story many times, always casting herself as the spirited heroine. He had cringed every time she spoke the fatal words – which, incidentally, were the ones she could never remember.

"_You have no power over me."_

Her voice echoed through his head, mocking. He may not have had power over her, but she had certainly sparked his interest.

When she wished her brother away, he could almost not believe his good fortune. There were few children wished away in this world now. He supposed it was because people were forgetting the magic. The Underground had once held connections with the mortal world – connections that had been destroyed many years prior. The few children he was called to take belonged to families that had somehow rediscovered the Underground, but passed it off as a fairytale. When they wished the children away, it was as a last resort – and most were surprised when he appeared to take the child.

However, Sarah had remained one of the believers – a preciously rare group of people. She called upon the goblins in a fit of annoyance, but deep down, she had known that it would work. Still, duty had finally given him a reason to discover who this creature was, that had entranced him so.

She had been frightened, of course, when he appeared at the window. Upon learning who he was, she argued – she hadn't meant to wish her brother away. But duty was duty, and he had to present her with the challenge of running the Labyrinth.

He had been astonished when she had accepted. Too many people chose never to enter the maze – people far older and braver than a fifteen-year-old girl – and the children were lost forever to the mortal world, given to families in the Underground. Those who tried did so half heartedly, believing that they would fail – and so they did. But Sarah had entered with only one goal – the retrieval of her baby brother.

This had intrigued him even more. Never had he faced such an opponent. Their discussion just before he had sent the Cleaners after her had been most interesting. She was still afraid – and rightly so, for she believed that he would have killed her – but she was also defiant.

"_It's a piece of cake."_

No one had ever said such a thing about the Labyrinth – _his_ Labyrinth – and it had both angered and fascinated him. Her steadfastness, her determination, had been extremely attractive.

Still, he needed to maintain his position as the adversary. She had been flustered by his seductive manner, and he realized later that she had only marginally understood, too young to fully comprehend why she was suddenly receiving such attention from an older man. However, he could most undoubtedly prey on her sense of romanticism – a reoccurring trait in young mortal women, it seemed – and he did so.

He had carefully crafted the dream she would have after tasting the peach. Somehow, her mind had twisted it slightly – his version had certainly not involved him singing to her – but it mattered little. Until, unfortunately, that blasted clock had caught her attention, and she remembered what she should have been doing.

He had been very annoyed with her one-track mind. It had been quite easy to distract others who ran the Labyrinth, but this girl had managed to ignore him twice – once with the crystal, and a second time with the dream. Had she given in, he would have captured her effortlessly.

Her calm face as she climbed the stairs in the room he had created inspired the same mix of annoyance and curiosity in him. Coolly ignoring his interruptions, his words of enticement and his offer of a crown, she recited the words from the book, words she had spoken so many times.

_"Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered…"_

The only falter had been when she once again forgot the last line – at that instant, at the look of fear and panic on her face, he was certain he had caught her. She would give up now, and agree to his terms…to rule with him, as Queen.

But she had somehow remembered the final line, and her expression had been one of triumph and joy.

"_You have no power over me."_

He had lost control then, transforming into his owl form and taking flight, conquered. All his plans, his manipulation had gone out the window in one fell swoop. But under it all was the bitter sting of rejection. She had discarded him, regarded him as inconsequential. One did not act this way towards the King of the Goblins. She was supposed to accept his offer, not throw his words aside.

Still, the experience had only served to deepen his interest in her – what kind of girl did she have to be, to refuse him? And so he had watched her for many years, watched her grow up. She was a strong woman, he realized now – though she had been determined when she was younger, she had had an odious disposition – and yet the whiny adolescent he had seen in the Labyrinth had gradually melted away, only surfacing in times of adversity. The "it's not fair" that dropped from her lips last night had been the first time he'd heard it in years.

And so he watched, knowing she would once again wish him back into her life. She was a believer, and her time in the Underground had only intensified the belief. Sooner or later, she would bend, and then he would have her. And as he predicted, she had called him. Now he could again work at making her his Queen.

Casting a triumphant glance at her balcony, visible to his left, he turned and went inside.

* * *

Unfortunately, Sarah woke to the sound of birds trilling prettily outside her window. Taking the fact that she had never once heard a bird at her cement-engulfed New York apartment into consideration, it was safe to assume that she was still in the Underground.

Opening her eyes, she rolled out of bed. She had to somehow convince Jareth to allow her to go home. She had a job to go to, and a boyfriend who would…

"Hang on," she said aloud. The confusion of the previous night's events had made her forget what had happened during the day. There was no job awaiting her at home, no boyfriend to worry about her disappearance. The only people who would care that she was missing would be Karen and her father – and that was only because she owed them money.

There was a knock at the door, drawing her out of dour thoughts. "Come in," she called, hoping it was Ilie and not Jareth. She was not exactly in the mood to deal with him at the moment.

The door opened and Ilie scurried in. "Good morning, Miss Sarah," she greeted. "Master sent me to request that you join him for breakfast this morning."

Sarah glanced down at her sleep rumpled top and loose pants. "I'm not exactly dressed for it," she said slowly.

Ilie shrugged. "The seamstress is not yet finished with your clothing, but there is surely something in here you can wear," she commented, opening the door of the wardrobe.

Sarah made a face, but it slowly melted as she saw the quality of the dresses in the closet. They were beautifully made, with vibrant colours and unfamiliar cuts. Once again looking at her casual clothes, she swallowed a lump in her throat at having to wear a stranger's clothing. Her current attire was simply not fit to dine with a King.

She sifted through the garments, running her fingers over the gorgeous material. Wondering absently what Jareth's favourite colour was, she stopped upon uncovering a lovely gown of royal blue. Recalling the blue décor in his bedroom, and the blue jacket he'd worn during their dance in the ballroom, she pulled it out. Ilie smiled in approval.

"Yes, that one is quite nice. Shall I help you with it?"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Sarah stepped into the dining room. Finding it empty, she took a minute to tug again at the bodice of the dress, wishing it didn't reveal as much cleavage as it did. Clearly the women here in the Underground had no qualms with showing their chests.

She smoothed the material of the dress over her hips. She was unaccustomed to wearing clothes like this – Ilie had bundled her into so many undergarments that she was sure the dress would not fit – and if it did, it would look horrible. The corset she had been strapped into was a new experience in pain, and she still could not draw a full breath. The overall affect, however, was very flattering and she admitted to her reflection that she looked lovely. And it would be worth the discomfort – she needed to go home, and if being nice to Jareth was the key, then she would certainly put all her effort into it. Dressing in his favourite colour, in the style he was used to, seemed to be a good first step.

She glanced around, trying to decide whether or not to sit down. The entrance of the King of the Goblins made the decision for her.

If he was surprised at her apparel, Jareth said nothing, merely arching a blonde brow. "Good morning," he addressed her, inclining his head. She hesitated for only a second before dipping a curtsy – not nearly as deep as Ilie's, but then she didn't want to seem subservient.

Seating himself at the head of the table, Jareth indicated that she should sit opposite him. "What, he doesn't even hold my chair?" Sarah muttered as she sat down carefully, hampered by the tight corset. "Some king."

Mismatched eyes flashed in her direction, and she quickly smiled. "I was wondering…" she began, unsure of how to phrase her question.

"Yes?" Jareth asked, his tone slightly crisp – it seemed he had heard her words.

"How am I getting home?"

The Goblin King blinked at her, remaining silent. Sarah leaned forward, expecting a tirade about the trials she would have to endure to return home. Perhaps he would make her run the Labyrinth again – without the help of her friends this time. She was certainly not expecting him to throw back that wild blonde head and laugh.

"Go home, Sarah?" he inquired, traces of amusement still clearly visible on his face. "You are not going home. You are to remain here with me. I thought I had made this quite clear."

Sarah gaped. "What do you mean, not going home?" she demanded. "I can't stay here with you! I've got a life in my own world, I don't need one here!"

"In that world?" Jareth said softly. "In that world, who are you?"

Sarah threw her head up, meeting his eyes. "Sarah Williams, that's who," she replied firmly.

"And who is Sarah Williams? Is she a great ruler? Does she have any sort of power? No. Sarah Williams lives alone. She has no job. Her parents will no longer assist her. Her suitor, fool that he is, left her." Jareth stood, walking around the table to lean close to her, speaking low in her ear.

"But in my world, Sarah Williams would be a Queen. She would rule, along with me, one of the most powerful kingdoms in the Underground. Now, in which world do you think Sarah Williams would be happier?"

Sarah dragged her chair away from him. "Nice try," she snapped. "But guess what? I'm not fifteen anymore. You don't frighten and fascinate me anymore. You can't spin me a tale of pretty words and shiny promises. Promises are bullshit. They mean nothing."

Jareth watched her through hooded eyes, leaning against the table. "Who made you so cynical, my Sarah?" he asked. "Who destroyed your dream world and made you forget your fairytales?"

"That's none of your business," came the reply. "They helped me, in the long run. Helped me open my eyes, and grow up. Helped me realize that life isn't a fairytale – and that I'm no damsel in distress. I'm not interested in be a queen, Jareth." Her eyes dropped and she sighed, the streak of anger that had animated her gone. "I'm not looking for a prince anymore. There aren't any left."

Jareth approached her again, stepping behind the chair this time, and letting his fingers trail across her shoulders. "There may not be any princes left in your world," he said. "But this is the Underground. And I am more than fitting to be your prince."

"Uh huh." Her voice was dry. "Do you mind explaining why, if you're such a powerful ruler, you're interested in a lowly mortal girl – one that defeated you?"

He shrugged. "You intrigue me. You make a refreshing change to all the women that I've known in the past – women who are merely interested in a crown, not the person wearing it. And as for you defeating me – what better way to have access to your power than to marry you?"

She stood abruptly, pulling away from his caress and facing him. She was pale, her eyes flashing. "So you're only interested because I'm not chasing after your crown, and because you can make sure I don't kick your ass again? There's got to be more to a marriage than that."

He smirked derisively. "I assume you are referring to love?"

She nodded, growing wary at his expression. He scoffed. "Sarah, my dear, I am Fae. Leanan Sidhe, to be exact. We do not love. We obsess, without doubt. But we do not love."

"What kind of life is that?" Sarah took a step towards him. He merely smiled. "A far simpler one, to be sure."

She frowned, shaking her head. "I won't marry if it's not for love."

Jareth shrugged again. "No matter. I'll catch you soon enough. Keep in mind, Sarah, that you are in my kingdom now. You cannot avoid me, and you cannot disobey me. Eventually, you will see the advantages in marrying me."

"Not likely."

He laughed darkly. "By the way," he said, slowly advancing on her. "I'll be needing an heir, as well. I'm certain you know of the…activities involved in such a situation. If that is not reason enough to consider marriage…" he trailed off, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

She jerked away, storming out of the room. He laughed softly, watching her go.

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A/N: Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Labyrinth and all characters from said film belong to George Lucas and Jim Henson, those geniuses. As well, "Golden Years" and "Underground" belong to our beloved David Bowie (drool), "You And Me" to the talented Lifehouse, and "Hollaback Girl" to the gorgeous Gwen Stefani. I own nothing but Ilie and the plot - and the little purple worm.

A/N: Chapter 3, cleaned up and shiny. Enjoy!

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**  
Wishes In The Night  
**Chapter 3

* * *

"Stupid, pig headed, chauvinistic, overbearing, arrogant jerk!" Sarah snarled the words with each step, ignoring the strange looks from various goblins she came across, and taking random twists and turns through the castle. Her foot caught in her long skirt and she stumbled, wrenching the fabric free with a vicious movement. All the trouble of wearing this stupid dress, being civil to him, and he wouldn't even send her home. 

As her anger lessened, she slowed her fuming journey through the Goblin Castle, staring at the unfamiliar halls. "Damn it," she cursed. She cast about, searching for any indication of where she was.

A window at the end of the hall caught her attention, and she walked quickly towards it, leaning against the wall and peering out.

The Labyrinth sprawled beneath her, looking deceptively innocent in the morning sunshine. She could see things moving in it, but what they were, she didn't know. She assumed that there were many creatures in the Labyrinth that she had not encountered.

As she gazed out the window, she had a sudden image of Jareth, seated in this very spot. He held a number of crystals in his hand, spinning them with that amazing skill he had. As she watched, he released one of the crystals, sending it floating towards the Labyrinth like a bubble. She stared at the translucent bubble – it looked like people were moving about inside it.

It traveled quickly down towards the near centre of the Labyrinth, and she stared hard at it, trying to make out what was inside.

As quick as it had come, the vision disappeared, and she blinked rapidly.

_'What was that?'_

Shaking her head, she walked away from the window, finding a staircase and hurrying down it. She stepped out into a vaguely familiar room – Jareth's throne room.

It was as deserted as she had seen it the last time she was here, although the various weapons and other items that had lain scattered on the floor were missing. Jareth's throne stood against the back wall, and it too was empty. She breathed a quick sigh of relief, and rushed across the stone floor to the double doors, pulling them open.

Half expecting Jareth to appear in front of her and forbid her to go any further, she cautiously moved down the steps, and into the Goblin City.

The streets were quiet, and this confused her. Her last venture through the city had looked much the same, but that was due to the goblin army that had been hiding, waiting for them. She glanced down at her watch – and gasped in surprise.

The hour hand was just before the ten, the minute hand close behind, near the eight – twenty minutes to ten. But there was an extra number on the face – a thirteen, situated where the twelve should have been. She gaped at the altered watch – why had it adopted the twenty-six hour system used in the Underground?

Tapping the glass of the face, she frowned, before looking up at the empty streets. Despite the change in her own perception of time, it was still rather late in the morning – there should have been goblins around.

Shrugging, Sarah began walking through the seemingly abandoned city, pondering the world she was trapped in. Goblins were strange creatures – misshapen and small, none of them looking alike. Even so, Jareth looked nothing at all like any of the goblins, with that wild blonde hair, that sensuous mouth, those penetrating eyes…

She pinched herself viciously. "Get a grip, Sarah – he's a complete asshole, remember?" she snapped aloud, looking up at the approaching walls of the Labyrinth. Why did Jareth look so different from his subjects – wasn't he the _Goblin_ King?

"_Sarah, my dear, I am Fae. Leanan Sidhe, to be exact..." _

His words echoed through her head. "Fae?" she said aloud, trying to remember her grandmother's stories of the fairyfolke – not to mention her university course in mythology. A vision of the textbook pages devoted to the Leanan Sidhe floated in front of her eyes.

"_An extraordinarily beautiful, but extremely dangerous creature, the Leanan Sidhe originally hail from Scotland and Ireland, the Isle of Man in particular. Known as the Fairy Sweetheart, they are notorious for ensnaring humans in a romantic relationship, and their attentions are rumoured to be virtually irresistible. When linked to an artist, the Leanan Sidhe provides inspiration and genius, but at a price. While the relationship is going well, all is fine. However, if the liaison turns sour, the Fairy Sweetheart will ultimately destroy the mortal…"_

There was more, but she couldn't remember it. "Well, she said dryly, pausing on the outer edge of the Labyrinth. "He's certainly beautiful…and dangerous. I just doubt he's as irresistible as they say."

"Oh, I assure you, I am." The silky voice seemed to be coming from above, and Sarah whirled around. Jareth was lying casually across the top of one of the Labyrinth's stone walls. His seemingly trademark smirk was in place, and his eyes glittered down at her with a very self-satisfied air.

She scowled up at him. "You really do have an ego, haven't you?"

His expression didn't falter. "Yes, I do," he replied calmly, lazily adjusting a leather glove.

Sarah threw up her hands in disgust. "You're impossible. And I'm out of here." She glanced up at the wall, but the Goblin King was gone.

Making a face at the wall he hadoccupied– an immature response, to be sure, but a gloriously satisfying one–Sarah stepped into the Labyrinth. The sounds of birds andthe gentle rustle of leaves had vanished once she was past the first row of walls, and all she could hear was her own soft beating and steady heartbeat.

"I wouldn't go any further, if I were you." The low voice broke the silence, speaking in her ear. Coupled with the touch of gloved hands on her waist, the shock caused Sarah to gasp, turning to face Jareth. She found herself staring directly at his throat.

While the desire to wrap her hands around that smooth column of skin and squeeze until his stupid gorgeous face turned blue was very strong, it was overpowered by his closeness. She could _smell_ him – how could she not, with her face practically pressed against his chest like it was?He had an interesting scent – the wild odour of leather, the woodsy perfume of trees, a subtly masculine fragrance, and a softer, slighter smell of feathers – like a feather boa. Something in the back of her mind pointed out that he could transform into an owl, thus explaining that light aroma.

However, something stronger and louder in her mind was screaming that he was far too close for comfort. His hands were still resting on her waist, his leather covered thumbs making slow, lazy circles on her hipbones. She lifted her head, meeting those mismatched eyes that had haunted her dreams for ten years. They scintillated with a lusty haze as he pulled her a fraction closer, causing her breasts to brush against his leather encased chest.

"Why not?" Sarah managed to choke out, recalling that he had spoken.

His eyes never left hers. "It's dangerous in there." One hand left her waist to move unhurriedly, teasingly up her side, brushing just shy of her chest, over her shoulder and along her neck to catch her chin firmly. He slowly lowered his head, his breath warm on her lips.

The voice in her head reached record volume, and she took a deep breath, shoving herself away from his warmth, his touch, his stare.

"It seems pretty dangerous right here," she said breathlessly, wrapping her arms around herself – subconsciously trying to recreate his hold on her body. He laughed, pinning her with a genuine grin. "Indeed," he responded, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Nevertheless, you would do well to take heed of my warnings, Sarah. I'm certain you have no desire to run the Labyrinth again, and it is far from necessary – or useful. You would not reach home by traveling backwards through the maze. You should simply accept the fact that you belong to me."

The hazy desire in her eyes drained away, replaced by a sad, regretful resentment. "Why do you have to ruin everything?" she whispered. She could not say anymore. Her eyes filled with tears, and she ran past him.

He remained where he was, a hundred thoughts running through his head. His dark musings were interrupted by a high, piping voice, issuing from one of the branches that twisted up the walls.

"Well, that was brilliant," the voice commented. Jareth narrowed his eyes at the speaker – a tiny, purple worm, no longer than his middle finger. He hesitated for a second, trying to decide whether or not to obliterate this insolent creature with a blink of his eyes.

He settled for swooping out of the Labyrinth, his cape swirling behind him, biting out a terse "Shut up," over his shoulder.

* * *

Sarah ran through the still empty streets, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. It seemed she was always running away from the Goblin King. 

Tossing that thought aside, she kept running, not stopping until she reached the castle. She dashed quickly up the stairs, somehow finding the corridor that led to her room. Once inside, she slammed the door, and hurled herself on the bed, biting her lip to keep from crying.

Taking deep breaths to calm herself, she sat up, staring around the room. It was a lovely chamber, but it lacked the personality that her matchbox bedroom in her own tiny apartment had boasted. She wondered silently if she would ever feel at home in this room, this castle – this world.

'_I need music,_' she thought absently. Sarah was a great fan of all things musical – she had taken band all through junior high and high school, playing the flute. She had minored in musical theory and history in university, and she had an extensive CD collection.

"I wish I had my mp3 player," she said softly, brushing her hair away from her face. The assorted songs on the player never failed to calm her when she was upset. But the player was far away, on her bedside table, all the way back in New York.

Turning to the side, she was shocked to find the small red and orange electronic device – complete with headphones – lying on the bed next to her.

"The hell?" she asked the room, reaching out for the player. '_It probably won't work here,_' she thought wryly, fitting the earpieces in and pressing the Play button.

The familiar strains of David Bowie's "Golden Years" filtered into her ears, and she closed her eyes in delight, breaking into song.

Her obsession with David Bowie was a strange one. She had discovered the singer soon after her return from the Underground, and she had immediately fallen in love with his voice. She plastered her bedroom walls with posters, not failing to notice his slight resemblance to a certain Goblin King.

With a jolt, she realized that "Golden Years" hnd ended, and the beginning of "Underground" was audible. She listened absently to the music, but it was the lyrics of the bridge that caught her attention.

_But down in the underground  
__You'll find someone true  
__Down in the underground  
__A land serene, a crystal moon_

'_That's weird,_' she thought. '_It almost sounds like he's talking about this Underground._' The next words made her sit up and stare.

_It's only forever  
Not long at all  
Lost and lonely  
That's underground  
Underground _

Snorting in derision, she switched the songs, turning up the volume to the sound of Lifehouse's "You And Me".

"Not long at all, huh?" she said aloud, voice rising over the music. "I doubt that."

* * *

The next day found Sarah in a better mood. She had successfully avoided Jareth all morning, and the joy of having her favourite music with her had significantly brightened the prospect of spending the rest of her life in the Underground. 

She was walking through the hall, her headphones on securely, when "Hollaback Girl" by Gwen Stefani came on. Feeling silly, and with a quick glance to make sure she was indeed alone, she began to dance. Eyes closed, she bounced her way across the blue carpeting, feeling happy for the first time since her return to the Goblin City.

So caught up in her song and dance routine, she did not notice the eyes of the Goblin King following her movements with an amused expression. As the song drew to a close, she opened her eyes to find Jareth leaning against the wall, watching her.

She flushed violently, mortified at being caught. Lifting her head high, she assumed an "I don't care" air, and made to walk past him. His hand on her arm made her stop and turn to face him, chin still lifted haughtily.

"What is that thing?" he inquired, openly displaying his curiosity. She pulled the headphones off. "What?" she questioned, her face still imperious.

He smiled slightly. "I said, what is that thing?"

She blinked at him. "This?" She held up the device. He nodded. She frowned, trying to think of a way to explain it.

"It plays music," she said slowly.

He stepped towards her, plucking the player from her grasp. "This tiny box plays music?" he said, confusion evident in his voice. "How does it work?"

Sarah shrugged. "I don't know, really, it's quite complicated, and it's hard enough to explain to people who know what computers are."

"Computers?" His expression was growing more and more bewildered, and she smiled, amused at seeing the mighty, all knowing Goblin King at a loss. "Yeah, computers."

He flicked his eyes from her face to the player held in his gloved hand. "May I hear this music?" he requested. Sarah nodded, wondering how he would react to her very modern music.

He slipped the headphones on over his head, making a face as it mussed his hair slightly. Sarah pressed the button, turning the volume down slightly.

He listened for a few minutes, before removing the headphones and patting his hair back into place. "That is considered music?"

Sarah nodded. "Yup," she replied, turning the player off. "Modern music."

He frowned slightly. "I see that much has changed in the mortal world," he commented, returning the player to her. "I must make an effort to update myself about Aboveground customs."

He set off down the hall, a pensive expression on his face. It was such a pleasant alteration to his usual scowl and swagger, and Sarah found herself trotting along behind him, forgetting yesterday's events in the face of this change. "I could tell you some stuff, if you wanted."

He faced her. "I believe the question should be 'would you'," he said. She nodded, following his slowed walk. "I'm no expert, though," she warned him. He smiled fractionally. "You certainly have an advantage above myself."

"Okay, let's go," Sarah enthused.

They moved down the stairs, not walking together, but not quite apart.

* * *

A/N: Please review! 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Labyrinth and all characters from said film belong to Jim Henson and George Lucas, those geniuses. I own nothing (nothing, nothing, tra la la) but Ilie, the little purple worm, and the (seemingly tired and over used) plot.

A/N: One more chapter, altered only slightly. Apologies to everyone, though - it's Halloween, and this poor story still isn't up and running fully. I'm such a procrastinator...

* * *

**Wishes In The Night  
**By: Moonlit Seductress  
Chapter 4

* * *

Sarah sighed in delight as she slowly sank into the steaming bath Ilie had drawn for her. She had spent the entire day teaching Jareth about the modern Aboveground – and not just music. They had gone into technology, history, society, entertainment, and other countless topics. 

To her vast surprise and considerable joy, the Goblin King was a voracious student, gobbling up every scrap of information she could give him. He made notes through the whole discussion, jotting down tidbits on an endless scroll, in a strong, flowing script. He would occasionally stop her, asking questions to clarify something, sometimes commenting on similarities or equivalents in the Underground.

To say it had been a pleasant day, however, would be somewhat stretching the truth. There had been a tension hanging over the conversation from beginning to end. Jareth had made a significant effort to contain his sarcasm and restrain his biting comments. Sarah, in turn, had tried her best to remain calm, and had succeeded in not running away in tears or a rage. While both parties considered the exchange an accomplishment, it was only a small one – they still had quite a ways to go.

Sarah traced her fingers idly around the smooth lip of the tub,reflecting on the day's events.Jareth's existing knowledge of the Aboveground had ended around the early 1800s – when people had truly stopped believing in the magic. He had visited on a few occasions through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, but for the most part, people had ceased wishing their children away. Indeed, his last visit to Sarah's world – excluding the one two nights ago, when Sarah had wished herself away – had been eight years earlier.

Asking him why he so interested in the Aboveground had caused a bleak expression to settle on his face. In early times, when magic and gods and other such beliefs had been strongest, there had been a portal connecting the Underground with the Aboveground. There had been many visits back and forth between the two worlds, and the prospects for the future were rosy.

However, something had tainted the happy alliance between the worlds. What that something was, no one was sure, but it had forever destroyed the link connecting the Underground and Aboveground. Creatures from the Underground escaped into the human world and began to destroy it. In return, the humans attacked the inhabitants of the Underground when they ventured into the mortal world, and even went as far as crossing the threshold and attacking the Underground itself. In a desperate move, Jareth's great grandfather had sealed up the portal between the worlds, forever separating them.

The only person who could move past the barrier would be the current Goblin King. He alone would possess enough power to pass through the sealed portal and venture into the mortal world. Nevertheless, the only reason for doing such a thing would be to retrieve children who had been wished away. The Goblin King would transport the child and whoever wished them away to the Underground, and would return the wisher to their world when the thirteen hours was up.

Sarah, as she learned, had been the only exception to that law. By completing the Labyrinth, she had been granted the power to pass between the worlds whenever she felt like it. Part of this power had been what had allowed her friends to join her in her world.

She had been shocked to learn that she could have returned to the Underground. For some number of years after her trip through the Labyrinth, she had daydreamed about returning – and she had been quite chagrined to realize that her desire had been solely to see Jareth again.

Wrenching out of her recollections, Sarah sat up quickly, causing the water to slosh around her. '_If I could leave on my own all along…why am I still here?_'

"I wish I was back at home," she said loudly, waiting for the elaborate bathroom to disappear. It stayed frustratingly solid, however, and Sarah gritted her teeth in annoyance.

"I wish I was back at home!" she repeated, louder. She felt a sudden presence in her mind, accompanied by a very familiar voice.

'_My apologies, Sarah, but your attempts will not work._'

"Jareth!" she gasped, looking around wildly. But the blonde Fae was nowhere in the room.

'_I had wondered how long after our discussion it would take you to try and use the power,_' Jareth commented. She snarled. "Let me go home! Why won't it work?"

His voice took on an amused tone. '_After learning about your powers, I took certain precautions to ensure that should you return to the Underground, they would be abolished. I couldn't have you skipping off home, now could I?_'

"You jerk!" Sarah shouted. Jareth only chuckled, his touch on her mind fading away.

Climbing out of the bath, she quickly toweled off, throwing on the robe that Ilie had provided and exiting the bathroom. She walked quickly down the hall and stopped in front of Jareth's door.

Before she could knock, the door swung open, revealing Jareth wearing a smirk and – not much else.

He was clad in only a pair of loose black pants, very different from his usual tight breeches. They hung low on his hips, and he showed – no, flaunted - a flat stomach and subtly muscled chest. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the doorway, watching as Sarah's face pinked prettily.

"Can I…help you?" he asked slowly, very obviously raking a gaze from her head to her toes, before lifting his eyes to meet hers again. Sarah's mouth opened, but no sound came out.

She was very close to turning tail and fleeing back to her room, but she was tired of running away from him. Squaring her shoulder and lifting her jaw haughtily, she desperately willed away the blush that still tinged her cheeks.

"Why won't you let me go home?" she demanded imperiously. Jareth's devilish expression faltered for a second. "I've told you why," he replied easily, but his eyes darkened with disappointment.

Once again, Sarah's mind was screaming that he was too close – and was definitely not wearing enough clothing. Seemingly of their own free will, her eyes kept returning to his sculptured physique, and the woman inside her was _very_ pleased by the sight displayed for her.

As she forced her focus back on his face, she noted the smirk that had returned to his eyes. She had been caught looking.

Very deliberately, he closed the small distance between them, once again overwhelming her with his masculine scent and piercing stare. "Why do you insist on ignoring me, Sarah?" he said softly, his breath gusting over her upturned face, warm and cool at the same time.

"Because you're a jerk and a scuzzball and you won't let me go home," she breathed, her hands betraying her as they strayed out to touch the pale skin of his chest.

"I'm not a scuzzball." His face was closer now, and she could see the desire burning in his blue and green eyes.

"Yes, you are." She tilted her head unconsciously, eyes fluttering closed as his lips captured hers.

The kiss started out gently enough, but soon Jareth's handssnaked out to drag her nearer, pressing their bodies into closer contact, and his lips became more insistent, his tongue slipping past Sarah's lips. She gasped at the suddenness of the move, but did not pull away, her hands skimming over bare flesh to clutch at broad shoulders.

Jareth broke the searing kiss, only to lower his mouth to her neck. Her head dropped back, allowing him access to the soft skin of her throat. She was dimly aware that he was moving them, slowly backing up into his bedroom. His hands left her waist, roving around her body as she raised her own hands to tangle in his silky blonde hair.

Her legs bumped into something – Jareth's bed. Absently noting that he must have reversed their positions at one point,she allowed him to layher down carefully, never once stopping the open mouthed kisses he was pressing on her neck and collarbone. But as soon as her head touched the velvet covers, her eyes flew open.

"Stop," she gasped out, voice hoarse. Jareth paused, his breathing harsh and panting, his face twisted in a mix of confusion, anger, and longing. "Let me up," she continued.

"Sarah, just – "

"No!" she exclaimed, fighting free of his grip. She fell off the bed, landing ingloriously in a heap on the floor. Jareth raised a hand to cover his face, his chest still rising and falling quickly.

"We can't do this," she said, straightening her clothes. Jareth didn't move, his voice slightly muffled by his hand. "What is 'this'?"

Sarah scowled at him, but as he couldn't see her, it had little effect. "This!" she snapped, rising to her feet. "This…you and me, this…this!" She could not bring herself to say anything further, knowing her face was already burning red.

He lowered his hand, rising smoothly to stand over her. "I'm surprised to know that you are even aware of what we were doing, as you do not seem mature enough to even speak of it." His disdainful expression, together with the sardonic words, made Sarah's blood boil.

"Ooh…you arrogant, pompous, overbearing…" she seethed, glaring at the Goblin King. He tilted his head mockingly, as if interested in what else she would call him. But Sarah could do no more than throw up her hands in frustration. "You can't just come and seduce me into your bed!"

That did it. "As I recall, it was you who came to me. And as for me seducing you into my bed…you came willingly enough."

Sarah paled dramatically, the blood draining from her face, and the anger draining from her eyes, replaced by something deeper. Then she smiled, a saccharine smile, stepping towards him. When she was as close as she dared get, she drew back her hand and slapped him smartly across the face, turning his head.

The realization began to sink in as the surging adrenaline receded, leaving her with very dark thoughts. '_Oh crap…I just slapped a King. A **Goblin** King_!'

She watched fearfully as he slowly turned his head back to look her full in the face. One normally pale cheek was stained a cherry red, and his face was devoid of its usual smirk. It was icy, his mismatched eyes glittering like diamond chips as he observed her.

He moved with such speed that she hadn't even seen him coming. Suddenly, his hands were gripping her arms, his fingers biting into her flesh like steel. His sub-zero features loomed over her.

"You will never touch me again in such a manner," he said in a low voice. "Might I remind you that you are merely a guest in my house, and that I could easily strand you in the darkest corners of the Labyrinth."

She nodded quickly. Making an elegant gesture, a crystal flashed into existence on his fingertips as he extended his hand towards her. The sight of the clear orb, as well as the dark expression, plunged her into remembrance.

_"Just as I can be so cruel…"_

Those long ago words brought frightened tears to her eyes. She did not notice his stony appearance fade as he gestured again, and his bedroom disappeared, replaced with her own. Sarah choked on her tears, sinking onto the bed and curling into a ball.

* * *

In his own room, Jareth burst onto the balcony, leaping off the edge. He was in owl form before he could fall an inch, winging furiously into the black velvet night. 

The sky had already begun to turn pink when he came to a halt, perching on a thick tree branch and reverting back, a hand over his eyes. He had come dangerously close to loosing control and conjuring that crystal for other reasons instead of merely transporting Sarah back to her room. His behaviour had frightened her quite badly – he had seen the distressed look in her eyes. He had scared himself rather badly, truth be told. Never before had he been that angry with her – not even while she had been traveling through the Labyrinth. And now he was supposed to be seducing her, not terrifying her.

He was certain, however, that it was not merely the slap that had ignited him. She had been responding so nicely when he kissed her, touched her…and it had suddenly fallen apart. With the added frustration of rejection, her strike had been the proverbial last straw.

Still, that was no excuse to have terrorized her. He was a man of honour and principle, not one of those sniveling toadies at the Seelie Court who took pleasure in dominating women. Pushing aside the tendrils of worry and guilt that spiraled through his mind, he transformed back into an owl, flapping off in the direction of his castle – and the woman he had mistreated.

* * *

Jareth was shocked to find Sarah awaiting him in the dining room. Her face was slightly tear streaked, her bloodshot eyes bearing dark smudges under them. As he strode into the room, she stood, approaching him with a wariness in her eyes that saddened him. She lifted her chin delicately. 

"I apologize for my behaviour yesterday," she said quietly, not quite meeting his gaze. "It was unacceptable of me to touch you in such a manner."

He took half a step towards her, stopping when she tensed. "Sarah," he said gently. "It is I who should be apologizing. As I said, you are a guest, and I should treat you as such, not frighten you." His eyes watched her, radiating concern. "I will be very distraught if your indomitable spirit is crushed by my foolishness." He held out a hand to her, silently begging forgiveness.

Sarah stared at the gloved hand, flashes of last night's crystal coming to mind. But she forced the unpleasant images away, accepting his hand. She was shocked when he pulled her close, gently enfolding her in a warm embrace, that same hand lightly stroking her hair.

Giving in, she allowed herself to bury her face in his chest, hoping he would not see the relieved tears that leaked from her green eyes.

* * *

A/N: I know, Sarah seems a bit weepy. But if you look, she only cries when she's frustrated or angry (a truly horrible habit that I have) or when she's upset. And I'd say having the man who just tried to get you in the sack threatening you with deadly crystal balls is fairly upsetting. Please review! 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Labyrinth and all characters from said film belong to Jim Henson and George Lucas, those geniuses. I own nothing (nothing, nothing, tra la la) but Ilie and the plot.

A/N: Yup, another chapter fixed up all nice. I just hope I'm not making more stupid mistakes in my efforts to fix my stupid mistakes...

* * *

**Wishes In The Night**  
By: Moonlit Seductress  
Chapter 5

* * *

The days following that awful set of events were marginally better. There were no more outbursts, Jareth was being almost kind, and Sarah had successfully avoided bursting into tears. She was still quiet and wary of him, her eyes downcast for most of their time together.

This particular morning, however, Sarah was exceptionally somber. Her pretty green eyes bore purplish marks beneath them, she did not eat, merely picking at her food, and she generally moped all through breakfast until Jareth could no longer stand it.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked mildly, disguising his concern. Though he may not have crushed her lively spirit, he had certainly broken it a little, and it hurt him to see her so depressed. He longed to see those green eyes flash dangerously at him, watch those perfectly shaped lips speak fiery, strong-willed words. Hell, he would have settled for the insolent Sarah of ten years prior, her face defiant and calm as she insulted both the Labyrinth and its master.

"_It's a piece of cake._"

Turning his attention back to the unhappy woman who sat across from him, he frowned as a sigh escaped her lips.

"It's Toby's birthday," she answered quietly, twisting and untwisting her fingers. "He's eleven today. I haven't ever missed his birthday."

Jareth's frown deepened. He hated to separate her from her family on such an occasion, but he was worried – no, scared. Scared to lose her to the familiarity of the Aboveground. His worst fear was that she would refuse to come back with him. He was powerless to bring her back unless she wished herself away. The chances of that happening a third time were slim.

He pushed back his chair, and she looked up. The desperate hope shining in her eyes made him want to run, run far away. But he was a King, not a coward, and he squared his shoulders and gathered his wits about him.

"I am deeply sorry, Sarah, but you must have known that it would be impossible for you to return to the Aboveground."

He had been expecting the usual tirade of, "You jerk! Let me go home!" and possibly even the hated, "It's not fair!" of long ago. The response he got paled in comparison, and it was painful to behold.

Sarah dropped her eyes again, staring at her turquoise silk clothed lap. "I understand," she replied, rising to her feet and bobbing a quick curtsy. "Excuse me, please." She hurried from the room, her shoes clicking on the stone floors.

Jareth remained where he was, his mind swirling with dark thoughts.

* * *

"_Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you…_" 

The cheerful tune sounded faraway, and Sarah strained her ears, trying to hear. But the words were elusive, and the swirling mists that obscured her vision were relentless.

"…_Happy Birthday, dear Toby, Happy Birthday to you._"

The voices slipped in and out of her mind, sounding ghostly and hollow, like the echoes of times long past. As Sarah ran forward in search of the source of song, the mist suddenly cleared.

Karen and her father sat on either side of a beaming Toby, who excitedly blew out the eleven candles decorating the cake. "What did you wish for, honey?" Karen asked her son. Toby smiled – the same wide, bright smile that had charmed his family and amused a Goblin King ten years ago.

"I can't tell you, Mom, it won't come true," the boy replied. "I do wish Sarah was here though," he commented, looking at the only empty chair. His grin faded. "She's never missed my birthday before."

"I'm sure Sarah has a really good reason, Toby," Karen soothed, shooting a worried glance at her husband. It had been two weeks since they had heard from Sarah – a rarity, since she had always called every two days, from the time she first moved out. "Here, why don't we open your presents?"

"Yes!" Jumping up, Toby raced towards the living room. But even as Sarah watched, unable to touch the only people in the world she ever wanted to be with, her brother's face turned ashen grey, and he collapsed.

The mists started to swirl again, blocking Sarah's view of the scene. She reached out a desperate hand, watching her stepmother and father run to Toby's side. But the mists closed in, and all Sarah knew was darkness.

* * *

She woke, drenched in sweat, her heart pounding violently and one hand still outstretched. "Toby!" she croaked, her voice hoarse. 

Leaping from the bed, she dashed out of the room, sprinting the short way down the hall to Jareth's room. Not pausing to knock, she wrenched the door open, rushing towards the large bed.

Jareth was sound asleep, his breathing rhythmic and gentle. He looked deceptively innocent in sleep, his face devoid of any smirk or such, and she was suddenly struck with the realization of how beautiful he really was.

It nearly killed her to disturb him, but the dream, still so fresh and vivid in her mind, forced her to stretch out a hand, gently shaking Jareth's bare shoulder.

Mismatched eyes fluttered open, hazy at first. They cleared as he recognized her, and a lecherous smile overtook his fine features. "What, Sarah, coming to my bed again?" he asked cheekily. The expression dropped as he took in her stricken face and wild eyes. "What's wrong?" he demanded, sitting up and dragging her down to his level.

"It's Toby," she burst out, her hands clutching his. "I was dreaming…I guess it was a dream – but it was so real, it was like I was right there, and he collapsed. I don't know what happened – I've got to know that he's okay!" She turned frantic eyes on him, pleading. "Jareth – you have to let me go!"

His face twisted. It was immeasurably selfish to keep her here while her brother could be suffering, but that nagging possessiveness tugged at his soul. "I can't."

"You have to!"

"Sarah, I am sorry, but I cannot allow you to leave."

"I have to see Toby!" she said wildly, dropping to her knees before him. "I have to know that he's okay – I have to know that he's still alive!" She stared up at him, her eyes desperate.

The raw pain shining in those emerald orbs tore at his soul, but the insistent fear screamed in his mind. He hardened his heart and set his jaw.

"Sarah, I cannot – "

"You have to! I've got to – "

"_I will not lose you again!_"

His words were vehement, fraught with passion. Sarah gasped, and he caught her face between his gloved hands. "I will not lose you again," he repeated, softer this time, but no less intense. Silence settled over the room, broken only by the harsh breathing of the occupants. Sarah covered Jareth's hands with her own.

"If you let me see Toby, I promise that I'll never leave the Underground again!" she vowed. Jareth narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"If you let me see Toby – just this once – I will stay here forever."

Jareth stared a while longer, before twisting a hand free and making a familiar gesture. "Swear it," he said, offering a crystal towards her. "Swear it."

Sarah reached hesitantly in the direction of the crystal, her hand faltering slightly as the reality of such a promise hit her. But the sight of her fallen brother swam before her eyes, and she firmly touched the crystal. "If you let me see Toby one last time, I swear that I will never leave the Underground again!"

The crystal exploded in a flash of white light, and Sarah screwed her eyes shut as the world spun around her. When she opened them, she recognized the waiting room of a hospital. Jareth was nowhere to be seen, but she could feel his presence, and hear his voice in her mind.

'_Sarah, be quick. I am bending many rules to achieve this, and we do not have much time._'

Running towards the rooms, Sarah intercepted a young nurse. "Toby Williams?" she demanded. The girl nodded, turning and pointing to a room just down the hall. "You a relative?"

"I'm his stepsister," Sarah snapped back, already sprinting to the room. She burst through the door, emerging in a typical hospital ward. Toby lay on the white bed, covered with tubes and such, his normally grinning face pale and haggard. His parents sat on either side of him, looking up sharply as Sarah dashed up to the bed.

"Sarah!" Karen exclaimed. Sarah touched her brother's face. "What happened?" she asked. Her father shook his head grimly. "He had a stroke."

Sarah whirled to face her father. "A stroke?" she repeated. "He's eleven, how can he have had a stroke?"

"It's extremely rare, but not impossible," her father answered. "But Sarah – where have you been? We've been trying to get a hold of you for days now, and – "

Sarah cut her father off with a wave of her hand. "I can't stay. I don't have time." She turned back to Toby, taking his hand. '_Jareth?_'

'_Time is short, Sarah._'

'_Can you make him hear me?_'

Pain exploded behind her eyes, and she felt inexplicably weary. Jareth's touch on her mind diminished, and it hit her how hard this must be for him. "Toby?"

The boy only moaned, but Sarah had no doubt that he had heard her. "Listen, Toby. I've got to go away – I won't be able to see you again. Just remember that I love you so much, and I'll miss you. I love you." Her voice caught in her throat as tears rose to her eyes.

"Sarah?" Karen asked. Sarah released Toby, pressing a kiss against his forehead, and turned to face her parents. She kissed her father's forehead, touched Karen's cheek, and ran from the room.

'_Sarah?_' Jareth's voice was faint and weak. "Let's go," Sarah said out loud. She felt a tug in the furthest corners of her mind, and the hospital melted away.

Jareth's lavish bedroom cleared before her eyes, and Sarah stumbled slightly, disoriented. She glanced beside her, barely catching Jareth as he fell. His face was deathly white, dark bruises already forming under his eyes. She dragged him over to the bed, carefully laying him down.

"Jareth?"

Mismatched eyes opened slowly, and he tried to focus on her wavering image. "To think I've finally got you in my bed, and I am in no condition to entertain you," he joked faintly. Sarah burst into laughter – a hysterical, frenzied sound that was on the borderline of sobs. She threw herself against his chest, pressing her face against smooth bare skin.

"Thank you so much," she whispered. She felt a feather light touch on her hair, gently stroking. "Sleep, Sarah," came his weak voice. "Sleep."

As she slowly obeyed his command, Jareth closed his eyes, one last triumphant thought rising in his mind before he succumbed to his exhaustion.

'_She's mine._'

* * *

Morning found Sarah lying against something wonderfully warm, something that smelled delicious. She pressed closer to whatever it was, not caring that she could not identify the thing, only concerned with how comfortable she was. 

The feeling of a leather encased hand stroked across her hipbone, trailing down to the waistband of her pajama bottoms. As the hand slipped beneath the elastic, smoothing over her inner thigh, Sarah's eyes snapped open.

She looked up to find blue and green eyes watching her reaction. They still bore remnants of dark smudges, but the impudent emotion in them, as well as the hand that was slowly traveling up her leg, told that their owner was clearly feeling better

"Hey!" Sarah shrieked, jerking out of Jareth's lazy embrace, straightening the waistband of her pants. "What kind of alarm clock are you?"

Jareth grinned. "The best kind," he purred, his voice making Sarah glad she was sitting, as her knees turned to water.

"You're a pervert," she informed her bedmate, cautiously climbing to her feet. She did not entirely trust her body – what with its reaction to Jareth's caress. The cause of her unsteady stance and rapid pulse laughed. "I know," he replied, 'But you love it." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, standing quickly and nearly falling. Only Sarah's quick grasp on his shoulder prevented him from pitching headlong into his wardrobe.

"You're still not feeling well," she accused him, helping him stand straight. He fought her off. "I am fine," he argued. "I merely stood too quickly." He turned imperious eyes on her, but her worried expression caught him off guard.

"That was really hard on you, wasn't it?" she asked quietly. "Last night, I mean."

He shrugged fractionally. "It was nothing I would like to repeat any time soon," he answered. "But it was also nothing that I cannot handle."

She did not look up, twisting her hands in the hem of her shirt. "Still…I know it was hard on you, and I can't give you anything in return." The touch of fingers on her chin forced her to meet his eyes, which sparkled with some emotion she could not identify.

"You have given me yourself, Sarah," he said, trailing his hand from her chin, across her jaw, to twine in her hair, pulling her closer. "What more could I ask for?" His lips quirked into a smile. "Besides a kiss, of course," he joked.

Her lips upon his own caused his eyes to widen before he responded. The kiss grew more intense, but Sarah soon pulled away.

"I propose we go for a walk in the gardens," she said. "I would like to see the place I'll be spending the rest of my life." Her words were not angry or accusing, but rather cheerful, and she smiled at him

"I trust you will allow me to clothe myself with a little bit more class," he commented, gesturing to the black pants that made up his clothing. Sarah giggled, nodding. "Yes, of course. I'll go get dressed, and I'll meet you in your throne room in twenty minutes."

She turned to leave, but Jareth caught her hand, raising it to his lips. The kiss he brushed over her knuckles made her shiver.

"'Til then, fair lady," he breathed, his eyes threatening to melt her into a puddle.

Sarah hurried from the room before she gave into her sudden urge to throw him back on the bed and ravage him right then and there.

* * *

A/N: Please review! 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Labyrinth and all characters from said film belong to Jim Henson and George Lucas, those geniuses. I own nothing (nothing, nothing, tra la la) but Ilie, Lynaidia, and the plot.

A/N: This chapter has been really altered, near the end. The whole mess with Jareth and Lynaidia and the ages of everyone and all that has been removed - I did it really, really badly, and it was just too complicated. So - we don't know how old Jareth is. But really - who cares? 20 or 200, does it matter? Anyways - one more done, one more to do, and then you get a nice new LONG chapter. Hooray!

* * *

**Wishes In The Night  
**By: Moonlit Seductress  
Chapter 6

* * *

Sarah walked quickly down the hall, opening the door of her room. Inside, Ilie whirled around, the feather duster held in her tiny hand clattering to the floor. 

"Miss Sarah!" she exclaimed, bobbing a quick curtsy and hastily scooping up the duster.

"I'm sorry, Ilie, did I startle you?"

The goblin shook her head. "No, I was just wondering where you had gone, so early in the morning?"

Sarah flushed. For a very obvious reason, telling her maid that she had spent the night in the King's bed did not make her very comfortable.

"Have you got anything for me to wear, Ilie?" she asked, pretending she had not heard the question. "The King has asked that I walk with him in the gardens, but I can't go out like this." She motioned to her loose pants and oversized T-shirt.

Ilie's face darkened as she skittered over to the wardrobe. "I don't know _what _that seamstress is doing with your clothes, the silly girl," she said, exasperated, as she peered into the depths of the closet. "She should have been finished by now. You've been here for over a week, and I didn't ask for anything overly complicated. A few simple dresses, some undergarments, some evening gowns, one or two really fancy ball gowns, in case the Master throws a party, and some riding gear. She had plenty of time to finish it. She's just lucky there's one more dress you can wear in this lot." She pulled out a gown of pale yellow silk, with gold thread trim, holding it up and eyeing it critically.

"It may be a little tight in the bust, but it will do." The little goblin sat Sarah at her dressing table, brushing the snarls from her long, dark hair. Sarah watched in the mirror as the maid tried different hairstyles, eventually deciding on a simple long braid, with gold chains wound into it.

"How did you come to be in Jareth's castle?" Sarah asked suddenly. Ilie's muddy brown eyes widened slightly at such informal reference to the King, but she did not comment.

"It was the doing of the Master," she replied, never once stopping her quick, deft movements as her slim fingers twisted the fine gold chains into Sarah's hair. "My mother was fleeing from a rather insistent suitor. He had...touched her inappropriately. As she was running, she turned a corner and smacked right into the Master. She collapsed at his feet, certain she would be punished for touching him.

"But he knelt down and raised her up, asking where she was going in such a hurry. My mother told him of the situation, and he immediately ordered that the repulsive beast of a suitor be found and brought before him. Then, Master offered my mother a position in his service. My mother accepted. And that's that." She patted the thick coiled braid gently, smiling as Sarah turned her head this way and that, admiring the lovely work.

"So were you born in the castle?" Sarah asked, a few minutes later, drawing a deep breath and holding it as Ilie wrapped a corset around her torso. The maid nodded.

"Born, raised, even educated. My mother was adament that I have some education, so I wouldn't end up the way she had before she met Master - who was pleased with the idea, and hired a tutor for me. There." She smoothed a few wrinkles from the dress.

"That's why you don't talk like the other goblins," Sarah mused, loving the way the long bell sleeves of the gown swished around her hands. _'If there's one thing that's worth being stuck here, it's the clothes,' _she thought.

Glancing at the clock, she gave Ilie a quick thanks before hurrying out of the room, down the stairs, and out through the doors past the throne room.

* * *

Jareth was waiting for her, sitting casually on the top stairs. He was dressed in a loose white shirt, the neckline plunging down to nearly his navel, revealed the odd pendant he wore. His breeches were black, fitting, as usual, without a wrinkle, and the omnipresent leather boots and gloves completed the outfit. 

_'Not to mention _his_ clothes.'_ The thought floated, unbidden, through her mind, as she appraised his clothing. She had never seen him dressed like this. Their confrontations, in the past and present, had always involved him in rather formal dress - excepting the occasions she had visited him at night. However, this look gave him a much more relaxed air.

He turned his blonde head as she approached, rising and catching her hand to raise it to his lips. She supressed the shivers that rose every time he did that.

"You look lovely," he said, his breath warm and cool on her skin. She hoped desperately that she wasn't blushing. "You look very nice as well," she replied. "I've never seen you dressed so..."

"Sloppily?"

She laughed. "If that's your sloppy, you should see mine. And I was going to say informal."

"Ah. Well, I am a King, after all. It is not often that I get to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman without being expected to be dressed like I am attending a ball." His mismatched eyes glittered at her, and she felt her face heating up again.

_'If anyone had told me, a week ago, that I would be blushing over the Goblin King, I would have thought they were on drugs,' _she thought absently. She was saved from her embarrasement as Jareth began to move down the stone steps. She followed him, confusion taking over as he led her past the front walls of the Labyrinth - the same spot they had had a confrontation a few days past.

Her puzzled expression made him grin. "Some of the most lovely gardens are inside the Labyrinth," he explained. "I had thought we would start with those."

She threw him a teasing grin. "I thought it was dangerous in here," she said coyly, bringing up his words from that past conversation.

She was not expecting his hands to dart out, catching her wrists and dragging her flush against him. "I am by far the biggest danger you will encounter," he purred, leaning closer, his teeth grazing her earlobe. She felt her legs turn to water, and she had to supress a whimper as he pulled away. He did not, however, release her hand, leading her through various twists and turns until they emerged in a cool, green garden. Sarah gasped in delight.

The garden was a tangle of lush, emerald leaves. Trees of all kinds - some tropical, some she had seen in the forests near her house, some she had never seen before. Thick, dark vines grew up the walls, some with delicate white flowers. A bubbling stream cut across the far corner, the water crystal clear. Tiny goldfish darted around the stones and pebbles that littered the bottom of the stream The air was thick with the scent of flowers, and the blossoms were a riot of colour - blue, yellow, red, purple, orange, white. Tiny pixies flitted through the air, alighting on branches. A cluster of them flew towards Sarah, her yellow dress no doubt making her a flower in their eyes, but Jareth waved a hand and they disappeared.

"Vermin," he declared, waving his hand again, causing the rest of the tiny winged pixies to vanish. "They absolutely destroy the flowers."

Sarah grinned at him, his behaviour reminding her of her first encounter with Hoggle, exterminating the fairies outside the entrance to the Labyrinth.

"Hoggle," she said aloud. Jareth shot her a incredulous look.

"May I enquire as to why you choose to mention the dwarf at such a time?" he asked, arching a blonde eyebrow. Sarah laughed. "You just reminded me about Hoggle, the first time I met him." Her brow furrowed. "It's been quite a few years since I spoke with him."

"I assure you, he is very well," Jareth commented, his face belying his dislike for Hoggle. "He is still tending to the gardens outside the entrance to the Labyrinth. I believe the latest fairy number he told me was over one thousand." Sarah opened her mouth, but he held up a hand.

"The knight is still guarding the bridge, which cost me a fair bit to repair, I'll have you know," he teased. "The monster has returned to his little corner of the Labyrinth, although it seems that my guards are absolutely terrified of him, and they refuse to patrol that particular section. I have heard many complaints about the creature and his rocks."

Sarah laughed. "Good for Ludo. I'd like to see them again..." she said, dropping her gaze.

"Then let us go," Jareth announced. Sarah gaped at him. "You'll take me to see them?"

He nodded. "Do you wish to?"

"Of course! I just didn't expect you to be so..." she trailed off, looking at the ground. Jareth leaned close to her, tilting her face up with a leather clad finger under her chin. "So generous?" he asked, his voice low.

Her eyes darkened slightly at his words. He moved away, leading her down a pathway before she could say anything.

* * *

They had gotten no farther that a few feet when Sarah heard the sound of heavy footsteps. She caught Jareth's arm, her annoyance with his earlier allusion to their final showdown forgotten. Jareth responded to her unspoken fear, carefully positioning himself in front of her. One never knew what to expect in the Labyrinth. 

The footsteps got closer, and within a few seconds, a harried looking goblin came scurrying into their sight, a long white envelope in his clawed hands.

"A message arrived for you, Your Majesty," the goblin said, bowing quickly. "It was marked as urgent."

"Thank you," Jareth replied, taking the message. The goblin bowed again and disappeared into another twist of the Labyrinth.

"Urgent?" Sarah quizzed, peering over Jareth's arm to read the message. To her chagrin, it was written in a very strange lettering - the pattern of lines reminding her of the Viking runes she had studied in her mythology course.

"My mother had requested my presence at the Seelie Court," Jareth replied, his expression one of annoyance and exasperation. "Our presence," he amended, reading further.

Sarah's eyes widened. "Our presence?" she asked. "How does your mother know I'm here?"

"The High Queen knows every time a mortal enters the Underground. It is, after all, her kingdom." His lips thinned. "And she seems determined to stick her nose into every corner of it."

"Wait, wait, wait." Sarah shook her head in confusion. "Her kingdom? What about your father? Isn't he the High King?"

"My father is dead," Jareth returned. "My mother rules alone. Until, that is, I produce an heir. Then I am able to take the throne." His eyes flashed at Sarah, noting her brilliant blush.

"But - I thought you were already King?" she said quickly, changing the subject. "King of the Goblins?"

"The Goblin Kingdom is only one realm in the Underground, Sarah," he explained, somewhat impatiently. "It is my kingdom to rule until I have an heir. Then I become the High King, and when my son is old enough, he will inherit the Goblin Kingdom."

"Oh." Sarah blinked, absorbing the new information. "Well?"

Jareth shot her a look. "Well what?" he asked in return, folding up the message and taking hold of her arm. He conjured a crystal, ignoring Sarah's wince, and transported them to the throne room.

"Are we going?" Sarah demanded, staggering slightly as her head cleared. Jareth snorted derisively, somehow managing to make the action look so elegant that Sarah rolled her eyes. "Of course," he replied. "I dare not disobey an order from the High Queen."

He turned away from her, heading for the stairs. At the foot, he looked around at her.

"Get your things packed," he said briskly. "We leave in the morning."

* * *

Sarah stomped into her room, more than a little annoyed. In the space of a few minutes, Jareth - who's company she had been thoroughly enjoying - had disappeared. The Goblin King was back - cold, brusque, impassive. 

_'And downright snotty,'_ she finished mentally, opening her door. She was shocked to find a tall, willowy girl next to Ilie, who was carefully laying gowns in a large brown trunk.

"Miss Sarah," Ilie greeted. "This is Lynaidia, the seamstress's daughter. She is to be your lady in waiting at the Seelie Court."

The girl bobbed a curtsy. She was quite beautiful, with huge golden eyes, long blonde hair, and a gentle smile. "My Lady," she said softly. Sarah nodded in return. "But Ilie, aren't - "

"I'll still be your maid, of course," the goblin female answered the unasked question, peering at the multitude of dresses that were strewn across the bed. "But you didn't think just a maid would suffice at the High Castle, did you?"

Sarah shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know about any of this kind of thing." She threw herself on the bed with a sigh, careful to avoid crushing any of the gowns. "Balls, courts, kings and queens - they're all a little out of my realm. I'm paranoid that I'll embarrass Jareth and he'll throw me in an oubliette or something."

Ilie chuckled, now selecting shoes to match the countless outfits. "I'm sure Master likes you more than that."

"I'm not," Sarah muttered darkly. She watched Lynaidia, who was carefully picking over the content of the jewellery boxes on the vanity. Sarah had never inspected the jewels, but she now noticed a number of pieces that looked remarkably expensive. The gold and silver necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and rings fairly glowed with rubies, emeralds, diamonds, and other precious stones.

_'But why am I surprised?' _she asked herself. _'This room was for Jareth's "ladies of the Court". Obviously he'd make sure they had the best.'_ She sighed. _'How can he not be married yet? Why does he want_ me _to provide him with an heir?' _Just the thought was enough to cause her cheeks to flame.

"There," Ilie pronounced, dropping the lid of the trunk. She picked up one remaining outfit - the riding gear. It was three pieces - a long-sleeved green blouse, a green velvet vest that resembled a bodice or corset, and a long green skirt, made of fine silk. There was a matching hat - a dark green affair with a rather modern air to it, reminding Sarah of the pillbox hats of the 60s - and boots, made of black leather with dark green silk across the toes and around the heels, to complete the ensemble. "Isn't it lovely?" the maid continued, admiring the stitching around the cuffs.

Sarah nodded. "It is beautiful," she said softly, running her fingers over the smooth silk. She glanced at Lynaidia. "Please, give my thanks to your mother. And I look forward to spending my time with you."

The girl curtsyed again. "Thank you, my Lady. And I will be sure to tell my mother you are pleased with the gowns."

"Well," Ilie said, dusting off her small brown hands. "I must finish my cleaning. Goodness knows what state this place will be in when we return from the High Castle." She curtsyed to Sarah, smiled at Lynaidia, and scurried from the room, leaving the two girls alone.

Sarah climbed to her feet, observing the blonde. She wore a simple gown of sky blue, which was lovely with her fair colouring, and her hair was braided much in a way like Sarah's. She had her golden eyes down, staring at the carpet. It was clear that she was nervous about serving as Sarah's lady in waiting. _'I'll bet the other women she's served have been less than friendly.'_

She smiled at the girl. "Are you always so quiet?" she teased. The blonde raised her head, catching Sarah's emerald eyes with her own of honey gold.

"My lady should not fear a wagging tonguefromme. I will be silent and respectful as befits a child of my station." The words had a dull, repetitive sound to them, not helped atall by her melodious voice and gentle accent. Sarah frowned. "Well, that soundskinda boring. You don't expect me not to let you talk, doyou?"

The girl blinked, obviously confused. "My lady?"

Sarah shook her head."Relax, Lynaidia. I'm not like the other women you've served. Feel free to talk as much as you want." She smiled at the girl, offering a hand. "Actually, I was hoping we could be friends."

Gold eyes wide with disbelief, Lynaidia accepted the extended hand, as well as the offer. "I...I would like that, my lady," she said,smiling back. Sarah laughed. "Good. Now- talk to me! I've been stuck here for weeks with no girlfriend to rant and gossip with. What shall we talk about?"

Lynaidia grinned, her eyes alight and her quiet, submissive attitude gone. "Let's go riding," she suggested.

"Perfect!" Sarahtugged the other girl out of the room, their laughter echoing through the halls of the Goblin Castle.

* * *

Sarah blinked in the early morning light as she followed Ilie and Lynaidia outside into the courtyard. It was just past seven, and she had already been up for an hour. 

She caught sight of Jareth, walking briskly down the steps. He was trailed by an impressive number of servants, both goblin and Fae, all of whom were carrying bags and sacks, trunks and boxes.

"Is there going to be anyone left in the castle?" she asked Lynaidia, who was standing next to her. Ilie had already departed for the servants section of the procession.

"A small number," Lynaidia said. "Going to the High Castle always requires a large retinue."

Sarah watched as everything was packed away into numerous carriages and carts.

"Ready to go?" a voice asked her, speaking low in her ear. She whirled to find Jareth behind her, holding the reins of a white horse. Lynaidia was already astride her own white mount, close beside Sarah,who nodded to Jareth.

The Goblin King was dressed somberly, in unremitting black. His face was blank as he helped her into the side saddle, waiting somewhat impatiently until she balanced in the unfamiliar seat. He then left her side, mounting a large black horse. The stallion was wild and willful - Sarah had already seen it kick two goblins into the air, and send a groom flying off its back. But Jareth handled the horse with ease. He rode with no saddle, no bridle, no reins. Twisting one gloved hand into the horse's inky mane, he moved to ride directly in front of Sarah, and the procession started to move.

* * *

A/N: Please review! 


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** Labyrinth and all characters from said film belong to Jim Henson and George Lucas, those geniuses. I own nothing (nothing, nothing, tra la la) but Ilie, Lynaidia, Mallaidh, some random servants, and the plot.

A/N: Tada! All 7 chapters have been revamped, and chapter 8 will most likely be up soon. Although, given my track record, I wouldn't hold your breath.

* * *

**Wishes In The Night  
**By: Moonlit Seductress  
Chapter 7

* * *

Sarah arched her sore back, trying desperately to keep her balance as she popped her spine. Concentrating on not falling out of the deathtrap also known as a sidesaddle, she gripped the back of the saddle and the reins on either side of her body, and leaned back as far as she could. Unfortunately, the movement caused her hands to tug the reins. Her horse stopped abruptly, and she tumbled off its back. 

She would have landed on the hard ground if Jareth hadn't disappeared from his own horse and reappeared in time to catch her. She fell into strong, velvet clad arms, and met stony eyes that lacked any amusement.

"Sarah," Jareth said quietly, his voice harsh. "Is it too much to ask that you stay in your seat?"

Sarah flushed - not with embarrassment, but anger. True, she had fallen three times already, but it was hardly her fault - she had barely ever ridden a horse in her own world, and that had been with a regular saddle. She struggled in Jareth's iron grip. "Let go," she snapped. "I'm sorry if I keep falling, but I'm not used to riding like this."

"That much is plainly obvious," Jareth returned, not easing his grasp on her body. "Lynaidia, if you will," he intoned, inclining his head towards Sarah's horse. The young girl moved forward to catch the abandoned reins.

Sarah suddenly found herself sitting astride, her arms wrapped around a slim waist and her cheek pressed against warm black velvet. She jerked away as if Jareth's form burned, scooting as far back on the black horse's bare back as possible.

"Please do not embarrass me any further by falling off again," Jareth stated briskly. Sarah stiffened, fighting the urge to shove _him_ off the horse. "Look, don't take it out on me just because you're nervous about seeing your mother," she said acidly, glaring daggers at his back.

To her surprise, his shoulders slumped, and his entire being radiated defeat. "I am sorry," he said, so quietly that she would have missed the words if she hadn't been concentrating so hard on him. " You are right, I should not release my frustrations on you. This is not your doing."

"Damn right it's not," she replied, her tone warmer, despite the harsh words. He turned to bestow her with a slight smile.

They rode in silence for a while, before Sarah spoke. "Hey, why are we riding to the Seelie Court anyways?" she asked. "Why didn't you just poof us there?"

He said nothing at first, but she could _feel_ his eyebrows arch. "Poof?" he remarked.

Sarah giggled at the affronted tone in his voice. "Well, I don't know what to call it."

"Anything but poof," he replied, a mixture of disgust and amusement evident in his voice."Disappear, transport, apparate - anything but poof. And to answer your question - have you noticed the size of this procession? I could take us all there, but it would require three or four days of recovery on my part. I'd rather take that three or four days and ride instead."

Sarah laughed outright, and he twisted to see her face. "Seems like someone isn't quite as powerful as he likes us to think," she teased.

"On the contrary, only someone with my level of power would be able to move such a crowd in the first place. Someone weaker would not be able to transport us three inches, never mind the entire journey to the Court."

"Excuses, excuses," Sarah grinned. "Hey, it's not really going to take days, is it?"

"No," Jareth replied. "We're nearly there."

"Already?"

The Goblin King shot her a strange look. "We have been riding for nearly five hours, you know."

Sarah gaped. "Really? It doesn't seem so long."

Jareth shrugged. "Time flows differently in the Underground. And I suppose you had your mind on other things, like tumbling out of your saddle every hour."

She gasped in anger, until she caught sight of his grinning face. "You are a scuzzball," she said, her smile matching his.

* * *

"We are here," Jareth announced.

"Yeah, I noticed," was the breathless reply. Sarah stared at the castle that loomed above her.She realized she was no longer on Jareth's horse, but rather in front of the smooth stone steps that lead up to the huge doors. Suddenly, she found herself gaping at the entourage as it blossomed with colour. The somber, dark coloured riding clothes everyone had worn had disappeared, replaced with brighter outfits. Lynaidia dismounted smoothly, handing her reins to a waiting groom, and smoothing the folds of her simple yet pretty gown of jade green silk. She hurried towards Sarah, who was staring down at her own clothing. Gone was her dark green riding ensemble. A white gown that reminded her forcibly of a wedding dress was draped in delicate folds over her body. The dress was far more elgant than anything else she had yet worn, and she couldn't remember seeing it in the mass of fabrics that Ilie and Lynaidia had packed in her trunks. Upon closer inspection, she realized that the gown was trimmed with silver thread, and there was a light weight on her head. She removed the fine silver circlet, holding it in her hands.

"Where did this come from?" she asked her lady-in-waiting. "It wasn't in with the other jewellery, and this dress wasn't with the others either."

"Are they not to your liking, Sarah?" Once more, Jareth had materialised behind her. He, too, was wearing different clothing - the only difference being that he was still cloaked all in black. We wore black boots, made of shiny leather, that rose higher that his usual calf length ones, stretching up to his knees. His breeches had been replaced by a pair of black hose, even tighter than the breeches, and it made Sarah's heart beat faster to see his muscled thighs set off to such advantage. Over the hose he wore a short tunic of black velvet, trimmed with the same silver that decorated her dress. On his fair head was a large silver crown, far more elaborate than the one that graced Sarah's dark hair. The sheer size of it should have made it ostentatious and flashy, but as usual, he made it look perfect. The outfit was completed with the black leather gloves that clung to his hands like a second skin.

With a jolt, Sarah realized that he had asked her a question. "No, they're beautiful," she hastened to answer. "But with me all in white and you in black, we look like we're getting married."

His eyes flashed at her and she wished she hadn't opened her mouth. "The Sidhe wedding colours are not white and black, but rather red and black. However, I am pleased to see you interested in the idea of marriage." "He did not smile - it was more of a grimace. "No, I merely dressed us in the manner that will most annoy my lady mother."

Sarah stared at him. "Why?"

"Why annoy my mother? Because I find it to be rather theraputic and endlessly amusing. She'll hate that we're matching."

"That's whyit willannoy her?" she asked.

He nodded. "Not the only reason, but it will help." He scowled up at the spires of the castle, twisting into the sky. "My mother has long waited for me to find a wife, but she has been hoping that I will choose to marry a Fae woman. She will be horrified to discover that I am vying for the heart of a mortal. Her position will be significantly endangered."

She blinked in confusion. "I don't understand. How would my being mortal affect your mother?" Jareth smirked. "Fae woman are nearly infertile - they have great difficulty conceiving and carrying a child to term. Mortal women, on the other hand, seem to have no difficulties with breeding. My mother was counting on the infertility of my Fae wife to secure her position on the High Throne for many years yet."

"But if Fae women aren't able to have children, how do the Sidhe continue to exist? How could your mother have had you?"

Jareth shook his blonde head. "I said difficult, not impossible. Most Fae women have only one child, and very often the father is not the male that the woman is married to. The vast majority of the nobility have heirs that are not of their seed."

Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but Jareth silenced her with a wave of his hand. "We have waited out here for too long, and my mother is not a patient woman. I will answer any more questions at a later time." He led the way up the stone steps to the huge double doors and they swung open.

* * *

Sarah was acutely aware that she had done nothing but stare like an empty minded fool ever since she had followed Jareth over the threshhold of the great doors, but she could not help herself. The splendor of her surroundings had her speechless with awe. Great silken tapestries hung on the walls, which seemed to be sheathed in gold. Countless pictures hung in gilt frames - paintings of Fae royalty, both male and female heartstoppingly beautiful. White candles in gold brackets lit the walls with light that looked almost heavenly. The whole thing looked much like Sarah's childhood dreams, only richer still. The idea of such extravagance was overwhemling. 

The procession stopped in front of another set of double doors, sheathed in gold to match the walls. A pair of Fae guards, dressed in white and gold livery, stood on either side. They bowed deeply as Jareth approached, just behind the herald that had appeared quite out of no where. He stepped through the doors as they swung open. He rapped the butt of his long, gilded horn on the floor three times and spoke in a ringing voice.

"Your Majesty, may I present His Royal Highness, Jareth, High Prince of the Sidhe, King of the Goblins, and Grand Knight of the Seelie Court." He had barely finished his sentence before Jareth had stalked into the huge room, moving with that smooth, predatory stride that Sarah recalled from her journey through the Labyrinth. He moved directly in front of the woman who sat regally in the large, raised throne and knelt. The idea of Jareth kneeling before anyone amused Sarah, and although she could not see his face, she could imagine his expression.

As his court knelt behind him, Jareth's steely voice echoed in the newly fallen silence.

"Hello, Mother."

* * *

Mallaidh, High Queen of the Sidhe and ruler over all the Underground, rose to her feet, and Sarah blinked, surprised. She was small - shorter than Sarah herself, who considered her 5'5" frame to be on the tall side - but the presence she exuded and the grace with which she moved gave her the image of towering height. She was as breathtakingly lovely as the many portraits in the halls, and Sarah was reminded of her initial thoughts upon first seeing Jareth. 

She was dressed in an airy gown of lavendar silk that flowed around her slender frame with the appearance of water. A gold crown, slightly larger than her son's, and flashing with precious stones, was nestled in the equally golden locks that were piled elegantly on her head. Her skin was pale, her eyes large and startlingly blue, and her features dainty. A number of gold rings graced her long, slim fingers, and a spectacular gold and amythest necklace, which Sarah was quite sure was worth more than her apartment and car combined, encircled her milky white neck. Her presence was rather overwhelming, and Sarah was certain that if she was dressed in a T shirt and jeans, she would still look every inch the queen she was.

"Jareth," she replied.

Sarah started. Her voice was icy cold, in sharp contrast to her mild expression, and Sarah noticed that her blue eyes were steely and frigid. Clearly this was a woman not to be trifled with. "I trust you have been well?" she continued.

Jareth inclined his head mockingly. "Quite," he answered, his voice matching that of his mother.

A slight smirk tilting ruby red lips, Mallaidh turned to Sarah. As those arctic eyes fell on her, Sarah was surprised that she hadn't frozen to the spot. "And who is this vision of loveliness, my son?"

The words were warm, but the tone of voice that accompanied them were anything but, and Sarah had a sudden desire to be many, many miles away. She felt Jareth at her elbow, but dared not take her eyes off the woman who stared at her so penetratingly.

"This is Sarah, my honoured guest," Jareth said coolly. "Curtsy," he hissed, out of the corner of his mouth, and Sarah stumbled slightly, catching herself and sweeping a low cursty. She remained still in the gesture, hearing the click of heels approaching her. "Rise, Lady Sarah." The cold voice was directly in front of her, and Sarah slowly straightened, looking up into the icy blue eyes. The queen had remained a few steps above Sarah, staring down at her coolly, and her meaning could not have been clearer.

_"You are inferior. Dare to cross me, and you will wish you had never been born."_

"It is quite an honour to meet the woman who has captured my son's heart so firmly," Mallaidh commented. She leaned closer to Sarah, who resisted the very strong urge to run far away. "One must wonder how you have managed it."

Sarah had never been happier to feel Jareth's gloved hand on her arm. "My apologies, Mother, but we are all rather fatigued from the journey."

"Of course," Mallaidh declared, in a louder voice. She clapped her hands, and a servant immediately moved forward, bowing low.

"Show the High Prince and Lady Sarah to their rooms," she ordered, placing emphasis on the plural. "The rest will be placed in the lower guest rooms."

Jareth bowed to his mother, and Sarah managed another curtsy. The woman nodded, before turning her back on them in a clear dismissal. Silently, Sarah followed Jareth from the room, head bowed.

* * *

The servant bowed to Sarah, ushering her into a room next to Jareth's, much like their arrangement at his own castle. Shaking, Sarah walked slowly towards the bed. A door across the room opened sharply, and Jareth stalked in like he owned the place. Taking one look at her pale face, trembling hands and glassy eyes, he crossed the carpet in three quick strides, catching her hands and leading her to the bed. She sank onto the plush mattress, trying desperately to regain control. 

"I am sorry, I should have warned you," Jareth apologized, dragging a chair to sit opposite her, his expression concerned. "Yeah, that would have been nice," Sarah gasped, covering her face with her hands and breathing deeply. "This is so stupid," she said faintly from behind her hands. "Why am I..." she trailed off.

"Do not despair," Jareth said softly. "I have seen Fae far braver than you reduced to quivering masses of fear before my mother. She has an...overpowering personality."

Sarah laughed weakly. "That's a bit of an understatement," she replied, emerging from her hands. She was still pale and trembling, but her eyes were brighter and the stricken look that had taken over her features when Mallaidh had first spoken to her was gone.

"You should rest," Jareth suggested. "Believe me, dinner will be a far less pleasant affair, and you will need your wits about you."

"Great," Sarah muttered. She shifted on the bed, curling her legs underneath her. As Jareth began to rise, she reached out, snagging his hand. He looked back, confused.

"Will you stay with me - just 'til I fall asleep?" she asked quietly, not meeting his eyes. A smile replacing his confusion, Jareth moved onto the bed. Sarah drew back, eyes wide, but he tugged her close, wrapping his arms around her. "Trust me," he soothed.

Smiling at him, Sarah let her head rest on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.

* * *

Please review! 


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** Labyrinth and all characters from said film belong to Jim Henson and George Lucas, those geniuses. Xerruw belongs to Anne Kelleher, and some future plot lines also belong to her. I own nothing (nothing, nothing, tra la la) but Ilie, Lynaidia, Mallaidh, some random servants, some assorted royalty, and the plot.

A/N: Yay, new chapter - and it's nice and long, about 1000 words longer than usual. If anyone's interested in knowing what the OC's names are - they're all Celtic, except for Ilie and Lynaidia. Mallaidh means "bitter", Etaoin means "jealousy", Rowena means "white haired", Moiré means "tall", and Tulliah means "peaceful". Just thought you might be interested.

By the way, did anyone know that the Gaelic name "Bowie" means blonde or yellow haired? I died when I read that. Seems David was destined to play the role.

* * *

**Wishes In The Night  
**By: Moonlit Seductress  
Chapter 8

* * *

When Sarah opened her eyes, she was alone in the large bed. She sat up slowly, taking in the surroundings she had been too upset to notice before. The room was huge, even larger than Jareth's chamber in the Goblin Castle, and was decorated in white and gold, which seemed to be the main décor of the castle. The carpet was white, as were the bedclothes, but the walls were stone, rather than the gold that sheathed the outer halls. The furniture was a brown so dark it was nearly black, and Sarah couldn't think of wood she knew that was that shade. There was a large gold mirror on the vanity, and a gold chandelier, along with the requisite white candles in gold brackets, lit the room. A set of double glass doors, partially hidden behind white drapes, led to a balcony that adjoined to Jareth's. 

Swinging her legs off the edge of the bed, she stood up, stretching idly. She was still dressed in the white gown, now looking decidedly rumpled. "Guess I'll have to change before dinner," she commented aloud. She ran her hands through her hair, wondering absently where the silver circlet she had been wearing had ended up. A quick scan of the room revealed it sitting on a low table. Three trunks stood next to the table, and the door of the huge wardrobe was slightly ajar.

Peering inside, she found all her clothes, neatly hanging. Wondering if Ilie had put them away while she had been sleeping, she pursed her lips, staring critically at the line of gowns. She was reaching for the yellow dress she had been wearing during her walk in the gardens with Jareth, but a voice in her ear made her jump.

"I would suggest something else," Jareth purred, his lips brushing her earlobe. She whirled around. "Why do you _do_ that?" she demanded, pressing a hand to her chest. "You know, one of these days I'm gonna die of a heart attack because of you and your sneak attacks."

"You enjoy it," was the calm reply. "Besides, if I am able to approach you without your knowledge, that merely proves that you are unaware of your surroundings, and that is dangerous in this castle."

She blinked at him. "Dangerous? What's dangerous about this place, besides your mother?"

His expression was grim. "That is exactly the issue. This castle is full of servants and spies that are fanatically loyal to my mother. If she tells them to watch you, or even arrange it so that you have an "accident", they will follow her orders, no questions asked. This is not a friendly place for us, Sarah, and I cannot be with you at all times - you must be cautious."

Her own expression must have shown her fear, because Jareth smiled slightly, reaching around her to select a gown, pressing it into her hands. "Wear this one. And smile – be careful, not terrified. Remember – you will soon be Queen. You cannot show fear, or they will think you weak. Hold up your head, be confident, and they will learn to respect you. Now – get dressed, there is not much time."

He disappeared, leaving her clutching the dress. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror opposite her. She was pale, her eyes wide. Glaring at herself and her weakness, she reached behind, unlacing the ties of the white gown with some difficulty. Leaving her corset on, she wriggled into the gown Jareth had selected, tying it as best she could. She ran a brush through her hair, and pulled the top half into a braid, leaving the rest loose. Slipping her feet into her shoes, she again glanced in the mirror.

"Much better," she said aloud. Grinning as she noticed the midnight blue dress she wore – the same shade that Jareth had been wearing – she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and threw herself a smile in the mirror. "Time to face the wolves."

She crossed the huge room to the door, but it swung open before she could reach for the knob. Jareth stood in the doorway. He grinned slightly, and motioned for her to turn around. Puzzled, she obeyed, gasping in shock as she felt his hands on her back, and a tugging that nearly pulled her off her feet.

Relacing the gown, Jareth tied the ends, gave the small of her back a gentle pat, and turned her around. She flashed him a half amused, half annoyed look. "Am I suitable now?" she asked tartly.

She was not expecting the kiss he pressed against her lips. It was quick – over almost before it had started, but it was enough to flush her cheeks and make her eyes sparkle. "Yes, now you are suitable," he approved, taking her hand and leading her out into the hall.

* * *

A dizzying rush of time and space, and they were standing before yet another huge set of double doors. Sarah rolled her eyes. "What is it with these giant doors?" she asked. "Your mother is certainly no giant, and you're not that tall either. I'm guessing your father wasn't huge, so is it just an ego thing? Like guys with flashy cars?" 

His slightly bewildered expression made her giggle. "Yes," he replied slowly. "It is designed to look impressive, to have your possessions larger than life, but as for the flashy cars, I am not certain if they are related."

She grinned at him. "Don't worry. I got my answer."

"And I got the impression that you find my physical stature less than impressive," he commented mildly, eyeing her. She laughed. "Not at all," she reassured him. "You're just not very tall, that's all."

"I am taller than you."

"That's not saying much, I'm not that tall either, compared to most people. Besides, what's the big deal? I don't care if you're short."

He flashed a mock glare at her. "I am not short."

"Sure, you keep thinking that." As he opened his mouth to reply, she pulled one of his tricks, imperiously lifting a hand to silence him. He did not speak and a slight frown tugged at his lips, but the glitter in his eyes told her that he was not truly angry.

"It may be a good thing that you are in such a mood," he said, after a brief silence. "As I said before, this will not be a pleasant experience."

Sarah shrugged. "Yeah, I don't expect it to be, but I listened to what you said about showing confidence and all that, and I'm not going to let them drag me down." She returned his smile, and the silence fell again.

"Um, Jareth?"

"Yes?"

"Why are we just standing outside?"

A fanfare shattered the quiet, and Jareth quickly pulled her out of the way of the large crowd that popped into existence in front of the doors. Mallaidh, resplendent in a gown of pale green, led the way through the doors that opened before her, not sparing her son and his companion a glance.

"I see that my mother has not lost her flair for dramatics," Jareth observed dryly, as they followed the mass of Fae nobility into the massive dining hall. Sarah elbowed him. "See, why can't you do that when you come to see me? Then you wouldn't scare the wits out of me every time."

The look he threw her made it very clear what his opinion of that suggestion was.

* * *

The murmur of conversation and the clink of silverware on dishes filled the massive dining hall, but it was all a rush of white noise for Sarah. She was surrounded by royalty, and she was quite out of her element. 

She didn't even have Jareth's comforting presence at her side. He was seated right across from her, but the table was about six feet across.

Tapping her finger on the white tablecloth, she absently wondered when she had started to associate Jareth with reassuring company, rather than an annoyance or an insult.

The vapid blonde Fae seated on her right – the Duchess of something or other, Etaoin – touched her hand. "Really, Sarah – that is the most _delightful_ name – I do _so_ love your gown. I would have _never_ thought such a dark colour would look good on someone with such dark hair, but you _somehow_ manage to make it look ravishing!"

Unable to discern if the compliment was genuine or if it was hiding that nasty little barb she was almost certain was there, Sarah merely smiled, the gesture wooden and stiff, and turned to the duchess.

"Thank you _so_ much, Lady Etaoin – and I must say that your necklace is simply _stunning_. I've never seen _such _an emerald before."

Such silly, insipid conversation nettled Sarah, but Jareth's approving glances and slight nods assured her that she was behaving accurately. The duchess preened, stroking a finger along the gold chain, from which a huge emerald dripped. "I should think not. But Jareth does give the most _delightful_ gifts." She simpered at Jareth, who returned her gaze with a predatory stare.

Sarah managed to keep from gaping openly at the exchange. Not only had Jareth given this shallow woman a piece of jewellery that looked as though it could drown a horse, he was ogling her like she was a particularly delectable dessert.

Etaoin glanced around the table. "Why, I can see quite a few of Jareth's presents at this table – Rowena! Rowena!" She called across the table to the woman seated near the centre. She stood, smoothing her snow white hair – although she barely looked as old as Sarah – and rushed over to Etaoin with tiny, mincing steps. The two kissed, reminding Sarah of the girls she had gone to high school with.

"Rowena, show Sarah your _lovely_ present from Jareth," Etaoin urged. Rowena batted white eyelashes at Jareth, and extended an almost childlike wrist to flash the diamond tennis bracelet that encircled it under Sarah's nose. "Isn't it _exquisite?_" she said, running her fingers over the gold.

"Breathtaking," Sarah agreed, shooting a glance at Jareth. But he was deep in conversation with a – thankfully male – Fae a few seats down.

"Jareth _also_ had this gown made just for me," Rowena exulted, turning in a little circle so Sarah could admire her pale pink dress.

"He's _so_ generous," Etaoin agreed. "Look at how many of us he's given such _wonderful_ gifts – that ruby and sapphire necklace that Moiré is wearing, red and blue are her favourite colours, shame that they look _ghastly_ with her complexion, and she's _so_ tall. Then there's that _hideous_ Tulliah, she's _so_ proud of her amethysts, pretending they're not simply the most _common_ jewels – fitting, really, seeing as she's _such_ a common girl. Then…"

She continued, but Sarah was no longer listening, having had her fill of such nauseating conversation. Across the table, Jareth looked up, giving her a faint grin, but the glare she threw back at him was poisonous, and he blinked in confusion.

As the meal continued, course after course, Sarah grew more and more annoyed. How dare he leer at that silly, simpering Etaoin? How dare he give those foolish, empty headed women such lavish gifts, when all he'd ever given her was a pain in the neck?

_'Not true,'_ something in her head chastised. _'He gave you your brother, and it cost him a lot.'_

_'Yes, but it cost me my freedom, in the end. He gets everything he desires, and he throws around his good looks and his flashy presents like they meant nothing.'_

_'Maybe they do mean nothing to him. Both the gifts and the women wearing them.'_

Calmly ignoring the voice, Sarah sat through the rest of the evening with an icy expression. As Jareth escorted her back to her room, she swept inside without a word to him, locked both the main door and the door between their rooms, and collapsed on her bed.

* * *

The next day dawned bright and sunny, and Sarah was hard pressed to remember a day in the Underground that hadn't been pleasant – at least weather-speaking. She dressed quickly, with Lynaidia's help, and then set off exploring. She had a strong idea that if she was caught, it would be disasterous, but she couldn't help not caring. 

She moved through a dimly lit hallway, pausing in from of a door. She pulled it open, conscious, for once, of Jareth's presence behind her. But she pretended not to notice, stepping into the dark room and searching for a lamp, or something to get rid of the strange shadows that flickered across the walls.

The slightest rush of air came from behind, and she knew that Jareth was about to grab her waist, as seemed to be his customary greeting. Without looking – and later, she would wonder how she had known – in the second before his gloved hands could touch her, she spun around, catching those hands in her own.

He blinked, surprised. "Yes?" she demanded coolly. His stunned expression quickly flashed to one more charming. "What are you doing in this room, my sweet?" he asked lightly.

She shrugged, releasing his hands. "Just wanted to have a look, but it's so dark in here." She gestured to the shadows that moved mysteriously. But the room flooded with light, almost as if she had flipped a switch, and the wavering shadows disappeared.

"Oh," Sarah intoned, breaking the newly fallen silence. "Thanks."

Jareth stared as she moved further into the room. She has assumed that he had turned on the lights, when in reality, he hadn't even thought to. He had been prepared to cross the room and open the heavy curtains that blocked the sun's rays, but Sarah's gesture had done the job. Watching her appraisingly, he pictured the hand movement she had used. It was one of the simplest magical gestures for "light" – taught to Fae children in their earliest year of study. Straightforward, but effective, to be sure – but Sarah was not a Fae child.

"It would seem that there is more to you than I thought, Sarah," he said under his breath.

"Oh, portraits!" the subject of his scrutiny exclaimed. "Wow." She was looking around the room, admiring at the gold frames that hung on the walls.

"Ah," Jareth commented mildly. "You've managed to stumble across the old portrait room."

"Why is it back here, all closed up and dark?" Sarah asked. "These are amazing."

"There, as I said, are old. Dusty, antiquated paintings that my mother no longer considers important." He motioned to the two or three blank spots that revealed red paint, brighter than the rest, once protected from sunlight by the picture that had hung there. "She took the few that she wanted, moved them to another room, and had new ones commissioned."

"Oh," she replied, still gazing at the paintings. "Hey, this one looks like you!"

She pointed to a life-sized portrait of a young man. He had ash blonde hair, falling around his head in the same wild style Jareth wore. His eyes were piercing green, and he looked very regal and strong, but there was a softer air about him – firm, but gentle; stern, but kind. He was dressed all in black, to emphasize his pale skin and hair, and he wore a large gold crown.

"My father, Ainmire," Jareth said, and the respect in his voice was clearly audible. Not the grudging, cold respect he paid his mother, this was true, warm admiration and reverence.

"Why doesn't your mother consider a portrait of your father to be important?"

He shrugged. "He had many likenesses painted. This is an old one, from when he had just become King. My mother prefers to view him in his later years."

"I can see where you get your good looks," Sarah commented, smiling. "Except that one blue eye – that belongs to your mother."

"A curse I never seem able to escape," he replied, frowning at the dark expression she suddenly wore. "Sarah?"

"My eyes are my mother's as well," she said softly. "My mother, who left me for Hollywood – who left me to see her every time I look in a mirror."

She turned away, and Jareth laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. It was clear that her mother had abandoned her when she was young, although the "Hollywood" she spoke of left him confused.

Detaching herself, Sarah moved towards another portrait. "Ew," she said, stepping closer. "Who – or what – is this?"

Striding to stand behind her, Jareth smirked at the sight of the painting. "That," he said, "is Xerruw. King of the Goblins," he added, almost as an afterthought. He waited for her reaction.

He did not wait long, and it was exactly as he had predicted. She turned to stare at him, then back at the hideous portrait. "This is the Goblin King?" she asked, shock, disgust, and disbelief colouring her voice. "And these…things…" she pointed to the large, grossly depicted creatures who clustered around the throne. "Are they goblins?"

"Indeed." Jareth watched the eyes of the thing that had once held his title.

Sarah flicked her eyes back to him. "Is _he_ a goblin?"

Jareth smirked again. "He is. Fancy a goblin being the Goblin King."

She made a face at him. "Hey!"

"What?"

She frowned. "I forgot that I was mad at you."

He smirked at her. "It couldn't have been much of a reason if you forgot so quickly." He flinched as she poked him in the chest.

"It was a good reason," she snapped back. "It's still a good reason."

He caught her hands as she moved to poke him again, echoing their earlier positions. "Well, what is it?"

"Why did you give all those stupid women all those fancy gifts? And more importantly, why did you let them flash them in my face? You know they were just doing it to make me feel unimportant."

He was quiet for a minute. "And do you?"

Her vengeful air melted away, and she lowered her head. "Sometimes," she said, barely audible.

"I hadn't thought that you were a woman who needed gifts and pretty words to feel significant, Sarah."

She looked up again. "I don't!" she exclaimed. "But sometimes…I don't know."

The look in his eyes was overpowering, and she looked away. "Sometimes I don't understand. You have all these beautiful women throwing themselves at your feet, but you keep saying you want me. Why?"

"I believe we have had this conversation – nearer to your arrival."

She smiled sadly. "Yeah, but I didn't like the answer very much."

He moved so fast she hadn't seen him coming. In one smooth movement, his gloved hand had captured her chin, jerking her head up and her lips to meet his. She started with surpise at the sudden move, but her eyes fluttered closed, unable to fight the seduction in his kiss.

He broke the kiss with as much suddeness as he had started it, leaving her flushed and breathing hard. "Perhaps that answer is more to your liking," he commented.

"Uh…"

He grinned, turning back to the portrait of Xerruw.

Fighting back the urges that were tearing at her, she cleared her throat. "So…"

He looked back at her, his expression calm and mild. "Yes?"

"So tell me how you inherited this ugly creature's throne?" she suggested, stepping beside him.

Catching her hand in his, he began his story.

* * *

A/N: Please review! 


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